Best Laid Plans
by Metamorphosis2011
Summary: Sam had only wanted to help. Honestly, that was all there had been too it. No ulterior motive, no personal gain. Just trying to give two people he deeply cared about a push in the right direction because they couldn't. How then was it, they all ended up here, in this mess? An angsty Destiel story with Sastiel thrown into the mix. Destiel endgame.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** While this story and it's endgame is Destiel, I feel I need to point out that there will be some **Sastiel**, too (in case anyone missed it in the summary). M rating is for adult content, m/m. There will be angst, hurt, lies and misunderstandings, but it will have a happy ending. This story is complete, there are 7 chapters in total, and I will aim to update once to twice a week.

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Best Laid Plans

Sam had only wanted to help. Honestly, that was all there had been too it. No ulterior motive, no personal gain. Just trying to give two people he deeply cared about a push in the right direction because they couldn't. How was it he ended up here? All of them sitting at the table, staring daggers at each other, or more precisely at the wall, and the atmosphere charged like the smallest spark would end up causing a supernova? Which most likely was what would be about to happen any second now. If only he hadn't opened that fucking door that Friday three weeks ago. If only Cas had locked it … If only Dean hadn't been a secretive moron … if only… None of this would have happened…

###

3 weeks ago:

"Oh my god," Cas groaned and threw his head back. The feeling of intense pleasure was building up fast with each stroke of his hand around his cock. He was sprawled back leisurely on his bed in the room that he was allowed to call his now. He had disposed of all his clothes as he wanted to do this properly and take his time. See if this whole sex thing really was as big of a deal as most humans seem to make of it.

These primeval urges had become more prominent for a while now, definitely since he had fallen, and they had become harder to ignore despite him having spent a good few weeks feeling lost and refusing to accept that being human was his lot now. But in the end he had faced the facts and started to adjust and, like so many other things he had to get accustomed to, Castiel had decided that it would be best to give into this part of him. And he had preferred to do so under controlled circumstances, not when the impulses were threatening to overwhelm him.

The initial weirdness of touching himself had only lasted moments, quickly replaced by the actual gratification of stimulation. Of course he had experienced his body being aroused before, back when he still had his grace, but then it had been a plain physical reaction, detached from his angelic self and easy to compartmentalise. Also he had never really felt such need to act on it. But since his fall it had become like an overwhelming sensation at times. A deep pulsing and longing and tingling of his whole body, making his stomach churn in a near painful way. What's more, it had the bad habit of repeatedly occurring at the most inconvenient of times, especially around Dean, which definitely was one of the few things Cas was not prepared to share with the man. He would not want to burden his friend with the more than friendship like feelings he was harbouring for him. He went through great length to hide how he felt from Dean and at times it seemed like this had become his prime past time. Just one of those facts in life Cas would have to get used to living with, just like having lost his grace, as clearly Dean's sexual attraction lied with the female part of the human population. If there was anything that Cas had learned about humanity so far, it was that they put a great emphasis on their sexuality and everything that came along with it.

But in the end all that pent up sexual frustration had to go somewhere, and Cas had made up his mind to take a leaf out of Dean's book, and decided to 'clean out the pipes'. Dean had over the years alluded plenty of times to ways of getting the 'job' done and pleasuring yourself. The last time had been but a few weeks ago, when Cas had quickly excused himself, as he did not need to have that conversation again, let alone would have been able to sufficiently hide his embarrassment. But awkwardness aside, the advice had seemed valid. He had been given this whole endeavour some serious thought over the last few days, and decided that his bedroom had seemed the best and most private place to explore his body and what made it tick.

Cas kept moving his hand up and down his shaft, swiping the thumb over his head, learning all those spots that made his cock jump and twitch and shoot an extra jolt of heat and pleasure through him. He watched the screen mesmerised, trying to incorporate some of the things he saw into increasing his own pleasure. He teased and slightly twisted his nipples, just like the guy had done a minute ago, while pumping and thrusting into his closed fist, marvelling at the feeling of his increased heart rate and respiration. He loved the way his whole body was reacting to something as simple as stroking. The ex-angel let out another low groan and gripped himself a bit harder. This had been long overdue and now, as he was doing this, Cas had no idea why he hadn't experimented with this earlier.

The dull moans and dirty talk echoing through the room from the movie he had put on to get him into the mood was doing its part to bringing him closer to the peak. Seeing sweat slick body sliding up against sweat slick body had his mind enthralled and his pulse quicken even more. Still watching the action, Cas imagined that it was not his hand but someone else's that touched him there, and images of green eyes were flashing before his suddenly closed eyes and he bucked up harder into his hand, lifting his hips off the mattress. His toes started to curl and he could feel his balls drawing up tight. He let out a long low whine and a slightly blasphemous (not that he cared at that moment) "oh my God", as he could feel every muscle pull tight and instinctively, he gripped his erection even harder and started to stroke faster, needing that extra friction so badly.

"Hey Cas, have you seen … OH FUCK! I'm … sorry dude!"

Cas' eyes flew open in a panic, just in time to see the bobbing strands of Sam's hair disappear behind the door again before it was firmly shut close in a loud bang.

"_Sam_? Oh crap!" Cas shouted while frantically scrambling for any piece of clothing he could use to hide his nakedness with. Feeling his already flushed cheeks heat up even more and his stomach turning like he was going to be sick, which actually seemed like a real possibility for a moment.

"No dude… oh my god… I'm sorry… I should have knocked!" Sam yelled through the door, sounding at least as embarrassed as Cas felt. "It's like _3_ in the afternoon CAS!", Sam added not very helpful, but as though that would excuse his bursting into Cas' room unannounced.

"Shit! Just… erm… carry on I guess…?" Sam added after a moment before he scurried away and down the corridor into the kitchen. Still being ill from the trials or not, he had never needed a drink so badly in his life and he was going to have it right the fuck now.

He grabbed a glass off the shelf and took the bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet before heading to the table. He slumped down on a chair and poured himself a double; hell a triple would probably be better.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he was mumbling repeatedly under his breath as he took a big gulp, not particularly enjoying the sharp burn it left in his throat, and carded his other hand through his long hair. It was not every day that you walked in on your friend stark naked and about to shoot his load. But embarrassing as that was that was not even it. It was the glimpse of what it was that Cas was watching on his laptop that had Sam all tangled up inside. And he couldn't even say that on some level he hadn't had his suspicions, even though if asked he wouldn't be able to say why. But, honestly, he had never given it too much thought; he generally had other things to keep his mind occupied, like staying and keeping other people alive, not speculating about their sexuality. But now he couldn't help himself because, clear as day, Cas had been getting off to two dudes fucking each other's brains out, and well, he chuckled manically as he took another sip of the amber liquid, it seemed like Cas for all his talk and incomprehension of human sexuality had found his preferences.

And of course Sam's mind wandered to what that meant for Cas' relationship with Dean. These two were inexplicably tangled together in his brain, and while he had chosen in the past not to dwell on it he was not stupid. He had noticed the looks Cas chanced at Dean and vice versa. Hell, he had years of that to the point of it making him feel uncomfortable at times. But he had always managed to convince himself to put it down to their "special bond" or whatever if was they were sharing.

Another reason for Sam not having questioned things more was the fact that clearly, Dean didn't swing that way. Sam was pretty sure of that, despite his teasing over the years to the contrary. But now that Cas … and… _oh_ … was that why Dean had started acting strange lately? Gone all creepy and secretive around them? But thinking about it, it was mostly around Cas. Did he know or did he somehow find out about Cas? Shit, if so, Dean needed to grow the fuck up. So what, Cas liked dudes and maybe Dean in particular (Sam had his suspicions about that one too). Dean had faced worse and Cas was still first and foremost their friend.

Cas scrambled around, picking and putting up his clothes as fast as humanly possible (and huffed out a bitter laugh at that idiom). His mood had gone from ecstatic to feeling like he wanted to die within a heartbeat. His arousal had all but disappeared, being replaced by something he thought might be shame. He would never understand how humans could stand getting tossed around by their emotions like that; all he felt was being out of control and weak, and he loathed himself for it. But mostly, he felt the need to go after Sam and explain. He had no idea what had just happened and why it had left him so flushed and mortified. It was a totally normal thing to take care of. Well, if Dean and Sam's own advice was to be believed. But somehow having Sam see him exposed and vulnerable like that, plus the idea of Dean finding out about this, had him spiral into a panic.

Not bothering with socks or shoes, he quickly opened his door and went to look for Sam. Instinct told him that he would be in or somewhere near the vicinity of the kitchen, which was exactly where he found him, clutching a glass like his life depended on it. Cas didn't feel comfortable going all the way into the room so he hovered around the entrance and cleared his throat.

"Sam?"

"Huh?" Sam spun his head around to see a very bedraggled but thank goodness fully clothed Cas stand in the doorway to the kitchen, shifting nervously on his feet, not meeting his gaze.

"I'm sorry about …"

"No. Don't apologise. I was out of line not to knock." Sam replied still sounding uncomfortable but looking at Cas and waiting for him to meet his gaze. "Although just for future reference, it's generally a good idea to lock the door when you … you know … indulge yourself." Sam needed another gulp of his drink.

Cas nodded his head in silent agreement. Yes, he had probably been stupid in assuming that a closed door alone meant you wanted not to be disturbed. Well another thing to add to his long list of 'do's' and 'don't' of humanity. He finally felt brave enough to look up and meet Sam's eyes and his mouth was turned up at the ends giving him a small smile, like he understood that this was all new to Cas. But Cas still shifted, ill at ease. His mind dominated by the thought of Dean and how he did not want him to find out, what he wasn't even quite sure anymore, just _all_ of this.

"Please don't tell Dean…" Cas implored, still not daring to step further into the room.

"Don't tell me what?" Dean's voice drifted towards them from somewhere behind Cas and sounding more than just a little curious. Speak of the devil. Cas tensed and his eyes looked at Sam wide and panicked and he went pale like he was about to faint.

"I thought we were past the keeping secrets from each other stage in our _relationship_," he said while pushing past Cas and into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and grabbing a beer. His voice sounded light and teasing but the slight waver was easy to pick up for anyone who knew him.

Dean emerged again, leaning casually against the wall. His eyes were flickering between Cas and Sam, who both looked like they had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"'S nothing." Sam was the first one to find his voice. "Just Cas … asked me some advice on some personal stuff and…"

"Yes, nothing of import." Cas added all too quickly for Dean's liking. Confirmed by the way his friend was holding himself and shifting like he had something to hide.

"Yeah, whatever." Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. Were they really trying to feed him this bullshit and expecting him to believe it? He didn't need reminding that he had been stupid enough in the past to fall for cheap excuses and half truths, because he had wanted to believe, but he had learned his lesson since then. He eyed Cas warily and couldn't help his stomach plummeting at the idea that Cas yet again might keep something from him. Even worse, chose his brother to confide in instead of him. "Not that it's any of my business, right Cas?" he added before he walked straight back out and into his room. 'Personal my ass'. Once, Dean had been the one Cas would have turned to with anything personal. _Personal_, what did that even mean? Dean slammed his door with more force than strictly necessary and flung himself on the bed.

God knew Dean had been patient with Cas. He could never imagine what Cas must have felt and gone through when he had his grace ripped out of him against his will. And he still remembered the weight that had lifted off his shoulders when he first had set eyes on Cas again, after almost a week of believing him dead. But all too soon that feeling had been replaced with dread and apprehension. Dean had tried to ignore the way he had been deeply hurt by everything Cas had done and how he had felt betrayed by him. But eventually these feelings had caught up with him and the anger at Cas, and the relief and happiness at seeing him alive and in one piece, had started a war inside Dean's head that tore him apart bit by bit from the inside.

The situation hadn't been made any easier by the way Cas had seemingly been walking on egg shells around him those first few weeks, and every time he had tried to apologise, Dean had brushed it off until he eventually just accepted the apology because he couldn't bear to see Cas' broken and defeated face any longer. And for a short while they both could have fooled themselves into thinking things could go back to the way they had been, well, safe for the fact that Cas was now human and for the first time needed their actual help. And despite everything, Dean had tried to give it to him. But the inevitable physical closeness and time spent together had sent him into a new spiral of fear, not ready to face some of the deeper issues of his and Cas' relationship.

Throw his worry about Sam and whether he would ever fully recover from the aborted trials in this mix of his mostly unnameable emotions towards Cas, and Dean should not really be surprised at the way he was feeling off kilter. If he would allow himself to dwell on it, he would probably say he was like a bow so tightly pulled back that it could snap at any second. He knew himself well enough to admit that all it would need was one wrong word, one wrong action for him to snap. And just now in the kitchen it had gotten awfully close. Too close. And he would not allow himself to go there. He didn't purposefully want to hurt his friend or his brother.

But even hiding in the sanctuary of his own room did nothing to help him calm down. This bunker, which was supposed to be their home, now had become like a prison at times and right now Dean had one of those moments where he couldn't breathe. He had experienced these almost panic attacks more and more lately and knew he just needed to leave, go somewhere where he could forget just for a little while.

With one long swig he emptied the last of his beer and grabbed his car keys that he had unceremoniously thrown on his bed next to him. He headed down the corridor, stalking past the kitchen with an "I'm heading out, don't wait up for me". He didn't' like the way Cas had moved into the kitchen, and he and Sam had looked like they were whispering to one another, looking too intimately for his liking, but he decided not to give this any thought.

"Hey… where you're going? You just got in!" Sam yelled from where he was still sat at the table.

"Just getting some air!" Dean shouted back and with that he banged the front door shut.

Cas and Sam looked at each other, startled and shaking their head in silent understanding and worry about Dean.

Cas was just about to open his mouth when Sam cut him off.

"I don't know…" he stated anticipating Cas' question.

It took Cas one look at Sam's face to realise that he was telling the truth and he nodded his head, letting his eyes fall back to the floor. Their whispered conversation about Cas and how Sam didn't have an issue with him liking guys and how, of course, he wouldn't tell Dean as there was nothing to tell, all but dead.

Cas hovered for a moment until he realised their talk was truly over. "Thank you Sam, you are a good friend," he stated before going back to his room.

Sam sighed and his head was hurting from the alcohol. He needed a moment to process. After a short time of doing just that, the kind of surrealism of what had happened earlier hit him. Sexuality aside, to have someone walk in on you while jerking off is just plain cringe-worthy, and now he felt sorry for Cas. Sam chuckled as he remembered the one and only time Dean had walked in on him getting off and of how he had wanted to die and had not been able to look at Dean for like two weeks. Poor soul. Sam shook his head in amusement as he thought of Cas and finished the last of his whiskey.

But Dean, Dean apparently didn't know about Cas. So why was he acting the way he did? Dean had been off lately, and not just his normal kind of off. Like acting really weird kind of off. If it wasn't because of Cas, then what on earth was going on with him and inside that head of his? All this secrecy could not mean anything good if their past track record was anything to go by. And frankly Sam was tired of yet again being left out of Dean's life. He really had thought they both had turned a corner and had left that kind of behaviour behind for good. That they could trust each other with anything, but he couldn't shift the feeling that he might be wrong about this yet again.


	2. Chapter 2

2 ½ weeks ago:

_That distrustful little voice that kept chipping away at Sam's innermost core was the reason why two and a half weeks ago Sam had ended up following Dean on one of his mystery trips out of town. _

The awkwardness between Sam and Cas had blown over rather faster than either had thought possible and they even had managed a halfway decent conversation about Cas' situation. Thankfully neither had felt the need to talk about the actual _incident_ but Cas did open up on how he felt more drawn to the male half of the population, more so now that he was fully human. He even disclosed his feelings for a certain male in particular.

Sam, for all his limited experience on the subject, had tried to help Cas unpack his thoughts. He really felt flattered that he trusted him enough to confide in him and their conversations had soon turned to other subjects as well. It was like Sam was getting to know a whole new side of Cas, or maybe it was just this person he was becoming now. But he could tell how much Cas hurt over Dean and in a weird kind of way Sam had started to feel protective of him, and wished his first brush with love wasn't of the unrequited kind. Feelings could be confusing at the best of times and loving someone and knowing it would never happen was one of the worst kind of emotions to experience.

Sam knew from experience that the best way to keep feelings (of any kind) at bay was to keep busy so that's why he urged Cas to dive fully into finding out ways of dealing with their not so little angel problem, helping him along the way whenever he could, which by default resulted in both of them starting to spend more time together, as they took the extensive library apart book by book looking for anything that could be of use.

Then there was Dean… Sam just didn't know what to think about Dean anymore. Things seemed to be getting from bad to good to bad again and then worse. Sam was honestly getting tired of Dean's mood swings. And he could tell that Cas was close to breaking too. Dean seemed to try to avoid him as much as possible. On the few occasions that was not an option he kept his physical distance like he wanted to avoid the risk of accidentally touching Cas at all cost. And Sam felt for his friend who didn't deserve to be treated like that… and if he only knew what the hell was going on with Dean he might have been inclined to feel for him too.

But as things stood he was just getting more and more pissed at his brother. One day Dean seemed fine enough, sitting in the kitchen with them, sharing a beer and pouring over the research (while still staying clear of Cas), the next he was all miserable and broody, telling Cas he needed space, when Cas as much as dared asking him a question, and snapping at Sam when he told him to sort his shit out.

Those were the days Dean would just disappear for the night and Sam had gotten his head bitten off more than once when he inquired as to where he was going. They needed Dean sharp and focussed. Especially as he was only running on half capacity at best and Cas was still new to this being human and mortal business and should trouble find them, they might actually run into some serious problems with Dean off his game. And then of course, he wanted him to be ok … just because he was his goddamn brother and Sam was going out of his mind with worry and just a teeny tiny bit of distrust, or as he tried to convince himself 'concern'.

So that night, after another, "What I do in my spare time is none of your business, I'm a fully grown man and don't need you to smother me" speech from Dean, Sam did what he thought he would never lower himself to do. But Dean just sounded so defensive, so guilty of hiding something that Sam felt he was left with no other option. A thousand and one scenarios were running rampant through his head on a daily basis. He had enough to choose from. From possession to curses and well, in their line of business those were the 'easy' ones to deal with, to something they hadn't encountered before. But the fact remained that Dean was not acting like himself, hadn't for weeks now. Thinking about it - not really since the whole angels falling business went down. So who could blame Sam for thinking there might be a connection. Also doubt and distrust were good friends in times of uncertainty and Sam was slowly starting to pay attention to them.

At least Sam had the decency to feel really bad about the fact that that day, before Dean headed out, he had grabbed his phone and switched on the GPS. He had tracked Dean's signal the minute he had left and after what seemed like forever, but really hardly had been an hour, it stopped in the centre of a medium sized town. Without as much as a goodbye to Cas, who was sat next to him at the table and had his head buried in a book, Sam got up, ordered a taxi, cursing the money he would have to spend on this under his breath and left the bunker in search of his brother.

Cas' head shot up when he heard to loud clunk of the door closing. One minute Sam had been here, next to him, both doing research in comfortable silence, like they had grown accustomed to, and then next he was gone. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. Sam had not mentioned anything to him about going out and they had established a kind of rapport between them to let each other know when and where they were going. Sam had taught him that in their line of business this was rather paramount for their survival (and of course something Dean had taken great liberty with lately, which Cas knew upset Sam). But for Sam to be racing out like that, without as much as a word, something must have really unsettled him. The thought left Cas feeling worried for his friend but also feeling something that the brothers most likely would describe as being 'pissed off'.

Again, he was the one being left behind. He had expected more from Sam who generally at least tried to treat him with respect and as though he was still useful in some capacity, even if at the moment this seemed to be confined to doing research. He had come to think of Sam as a real friend and started to rely on him as a source of comfort. Especially with the way he patiently helped him find ways of dealing with his feelings and navigate his way around Dean and keep his little secret.

Not that Cas was ashamed of his sexual preferences, not at all. He had seen too much during his long existence to be rattled or influenced by what any current society might deem appropriate or not. But he knew Dean was very much defined by those parameters. And Cas knew thinking of Dean like that was being highly unfair on him, as really, no one could ultimately choose who they get attracted to. He just had let himself hope for a while that Dean might be able to return his more than friendship like feelings but deep down Cas had known that it was just an illusion. Something one would tell oneself to make the pain one felt more bearable (that was how Sam had tried to explain it to him anyway). Cas had no idea how Dean would react if he ever found out. He was scared of him eventually putting two and two together about the extent of Cas' feelings and as a result, distancing himself even more. And if the current dire situation was any indicator, Cas was not sure he would be able to handle it. He could hardly keep it together as it was half the time.

He carded his hands through his hair and huffed. Not for the first time he felt an uneasy buzzing going through his body at those thoughts. An energy that made his nerves twitch and his hands sweat. He needed to get up and do something. Just sitting here waiting like a lap dog for either of the brothers to return was slowly driving him insane.

He felt useless most of the time as it was, without needing daily reminders from Dean, and now apparently Sam as well; that he was really not worth of their time and trust, would just be a hindrance to them and the important _stuff_ they have to deal with. It was either get up and do something or take another leaf out of Dean's book and drink himself into oblivion until he couldn't feel, couldn't think anymore. He had tried this once with very little effect other than a horrendous hangover.

Cas flung the book across the table in frustration. It was moments like these, without Sam being here to give him a little sense of self worth, that he realised how utterly alone he felt. How he hated being stuck in this body, weak and defenceless and how fucking much (yes, he used that word these days) he missed having Dean around, even when he pretty much treated him like shit these days. He needed to find a way to define himself again; the 'I'm an angel of the Lord' was still too readily popping into his head, only to remind him that was not him anymore. But then who was he and what was he going to do? He could not spend his time being defined by his relationship with Sam and Dean. But … Dean… in the end hadn't it always just been about Dean?

That final thought was the deciding factor for him to jump up, giving his chair a good kick just because it made him feel better and pull out the bottle of whiskey and a glass. He didn't go easy on the quantity; filling the glass to the brim and knocking it back in one go. He hated the taste and groaned out in frustration (what was he even doing drinking this stuff?) before slamming the glass back down with such force it cracked. He stared at the line in the glass for a long time, mesmerised by its beauty, the way it threaded itself down the side of the glass, almost rendering it useless - but the glass was still there, still in one piece. And he knew if he would fill it again it would still be able to hold the liquid, despite its weakened structural integrity. Cas sighed, and decided that the point at which he was tempted to go all philosophical and compare himself to a broken glass would be the ideal time to just go to bed. The whiskey he had downed was starting to have an effect on his body and it wasn't like anyone would miss him tonight.

#

An hour later Sam found himself in a busy street outside what, on first impression, looked like a nightclub, but he knew better than to rely on first impressions. He searched the surrounding roads for the Impala and found it parked a few minute's walk away, well hidden in a rather abandoned side road. Stay out of sight 101! Now Sam knew something was up and his body tensed up on impulse.

Drawing from his lifetime of experience, he checked for anything suspicious but came up short so he headed back to the club and decided to go in and confront Dean head on. He was angry enough for a confrontation, the adrenaline he felt making his blood rush faster through his body.

On entering he let his eyes sweep the room. The club looked innocent enough, filled with the normal kind of midweek crowd wanting to get drunk and having a good time, forgetting life to the steady beat of some dance music. On closer inspection… this place consisted primarily of guys and Sam raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room for Dean. This definitely didn't have the feel of one of Dean's normal hangout places about it. Sam's suspicions were confirmed not two minutes later when he was approached by a guy in a tight fitting vest, who looked him up and down before offering to buy him a drink. Sam was too flabbergasted to refuse and nodded his head. Also, maybe he could coax some information about the place out of him and besides it was always good to keep up appearances and blend in.

A drink and some serious getting eye fucked later, Sam was convinced that either the guy didn't know anything or this really was just your average run of the mill gay club, which of course didn't make sense in the slightest. His eyes continued to scan the room to the dismay of his company who seemed to get slightly pissed of at the lack of attention Sam was paying him.

And then Sam spotted Dean! Where the hell had he even come from all of a sudden? Sam's eyes were bulging and about to pop out of their sockets, as he watched Dean appear out of a side door he hadn't even noticed before and head towards the exit, not alone but followed by a slightly smaller guy with dark hair and… just for a second Sam thought it actually was Cas, the similarities were that striking. Without as much as a goodbye Sam left the club to a muffled "fuck you" from the guy who had clearly hoped to strike some luck with him. When he reached the exit he was met with an empty road. Damn, he should have been faster. Sam followed his earlier steps back to where the Impala was parked; wanting to make sure Dean and his mystery companion hadn't left already.

Sam rounded the corner slowly, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, and there it was, Dean's baby still parked and empty of any occupants.

"Oh screw this," Sam huffed out in annoyance. Well, without any other leads his best guess would be to just hang near the Impala and wait for Dean to reappear. Sam made himself as comfortable as he could against the wall, staying out of the light of the flickering street lamp as much as possible. That was when he heard it. A low whiney moan. And Sam would recognise that voice anywhere and his fight or flight instinct took over.

Sam grabbed hold of the knife he always had in the side pocket of his jacket as he quietly and with practised speed scanned the immediate space around him. He shuffled along the wall and peeked his head round the corner looking for danger … and he saw him. Dean was partly hidden behind the Impala, eyes closed and leaning against the far wall of this side road. How had Sam not spotted him earlier? Sam couldn't quite make out in the dark whether he was actually hurt or not.

He was just about to shout out Dean's name, lungs filling with air and about to step out into the light, when Dean's wrecked, gravely voice floated through the air again.

"Oh fuck … yes … like that," He rasped out and his hands grabbed at something in front of him.

Oh my god! Sam froze on the spot. Dean's hands were clearly clutching a human head that thanks to Dean's tugs had now moved enough out of the shadow for Sam to make out clearly. A very male human head with dark hair at that! And Dean was currently fucking his mouth with vigour.

Shit, fuck, crap! Sam didn't know what to do. His breath stuttered and his brain was fried and refusing to cooperate. He only knew that there was no way Dean could see him here. He'd probably kill him on the spot. He slinked back into the darkness and thanked god or whoever was listening for his years of hunter training as he quietly and swiftly moved away. Once he was a safe distance away, he just started to run down the road, until he was out of breath and had to lean against a wall. His lungs felt like they were on fire as he gasped for air but Sam welcomed the pain.

What the hell was wrong with the universe? First Cas and now this? If Sam didn't know that Gabriel was dead he would assume that he was playing one of his morbid tricks on him. Making him walk in and discover things about the two people closest to him that he really had no right to know, if they didn't want to share them with him. Shit, he needed to get out of here and back home before Dean caught him. Heading back to the main road, he jumped into the first available taxi and probably made the driver's day when Sam told him how far he wanted to go. If only there was a way for him to forget that this had ever happened. Served him right, he thought ruefully for putting his nose in other people's business.

#

"Oh fuck … almost there … come on!" Dean growled and held on to the head of the man tighter. He tangled his hands in the short dark strands of his hair and shoved himself in and out of his mouth and throat in hard, unyielding thrusts. Dean hoped the guy would take care of himself as he had clearly stated that he was not the reciprocating kind of guy. Still, the man had been more than happy to offer up his 'services' for Dean and had been boasting about his oral skills. And fuck, he had not been lying. The way his throat just opened up for Dean to push in was mind blowing and he still managed to massage Dean's length with his tongue while he sucked hard. He could feel his stomach constrict and the telltale tingle build up, his load about to spill out of him.

Dean could hear and feel Greg or Jack or whatever the dude's name was, moaning around his dick and easing up on his sucking just for a second. Dean assumed he must have just come. Not that he could dwell on that fact as the vibrations of the moans combined with one last hard push into the hot wet mouth had him explode. He fell over the precipice as well, and came hard, spurting come all down the guy's throat; shaking with the force of his release. After a few more thrusts Dean pulled out quickly, doing up the buttons of his trousers in one swift and practised movement.

"Thanks dude," Dean said and walked away before the man could answer him or get up from the ground he was still kneeling on. Without as much as a backwards glance, Dean was heading to the Impala, got in and drove off like the devil himself was after him.

Dean hated those moments after. Loathed the way he felt, dirty and used despite generally being the one doing the using and never touching a guy in return. That was one of the lines he had put in place right when he had started this whole sorry tale, trying desperately to rationalise and compartmentalise his actions. Touching a guy would just feel damn weird, but to have his dick sucked by one, well, a mouth was a mouth. And after all it served a purpose. It helped him keep his very non-friendly and confusing urges towards Cas at bay and stop him from doing something he might regret.

Dean did not want to put a name to this thing. In fact, outside these moments, he chose not to think about it at all. It certainly didn't make him gay as far as he was concerned and while he had undeniable, strong and confusing feelings towards Cas… he just didn't know how to handle them, didn't want to handle them, if he was being perfectly honest with himself. He had never envisaged his life taking a turn like this, and while he knew that the apple pie life wasn't for him, he still had always assumed that somewhere down the line there would be a lady for him. Someone who could share a part of whatever crappy remainder or life he had left.

But to fall in love and live out his life with a dude? No, Dean just couldn't see how that could work. It was just not him. And he hated himself for it, for having these feelings in the first place, for not being strong enough to push them away. It was all good and well while Cas had been an angel. It was like an almost invisible barrier had kept them apart but now… Now Cas was human and also living in their bunker and the more time Dean had spent around him, the more he had realised that he craved having Cas around like that despite their issues. He just couldn't allow himself to show it. And, oh god, Dean would never admit it out loud to anyone, but deep down he could feel it and knew it to be true. He was scared. Dean Winchester was so scared that he couldn't breathe some days. Scared of rejection and of loss. He wouldn't be able to stand losing anyone else in his life. There was no way he was going to risk ruining their slowly and painfully rebuilding friendship for something like sex.

So nameless faces in countless bars it had become. He still remembered that first night it had happened. The way the panic at the realisation of his true feelings for Cas had worked its way through his whole body until he had to leave for fear of suffocating and drowning in them. The way he had been driving around aimlessly only to come to stop at a shady joint and get so drunk that when this guy approached him and offered him a blow job he was too drunk to refuse. It was either the promise of relief or smashing the guy's head in for daring to proposition him. But the guy had dark hair and grey eyes which reminded Dean of Cas. Well enough, that he would have felt bad for hurting him. Dean had felt filthy as he had gotten blown in the toilet and imagined it to be Cas instead, but at the same time it took some of this desperate edge off.

When he had come home that next morning he had felt somewhat more relaxed as his physical urges had been satisfied but he had not expected to not even be able to look Cas in the eyes when he ran into him in the kitchen. The shame was seemingly too big to hide. So he had started to avoid Cas and he knew that he was being a real dick but he just couldn't find a way around it. A way to interact normally with Cas again. And he missed having Cas close, missed his company and that just made him all the more miserable.

Whenever the pain or frustration became too much he would head out, run away just for the night. And there were plenty pretty enough looking guys with blue eyes and dark hair to keep him satisfied whenever he needed it. Dean had a type, at least he could allow himself that. He only wished he could stop or accept this about himself and not feel like he was not only betraying himself but Cas in the process. Every time he looked at him, images of what he had done and who he had imagined doing it with were clouding his mind and making him feel like the useless piece of trash he clearly had become.

And Sam, Sam was just getting on his nerves with his touchy feely 'let's talk about it' crap, like that would solve everything. Could solve how Dean loathed himself and what he was feeling for Cas and _what_ that would make him. Solve how messed up everything was because he was not strong enough to fight those feelings. Dean some days was tempted to just keep on driving, to not go back to the bunker, but of course he always did. The two most important people in his life where there after all, where else did he have to go?

He prayed that both Cas and Sam would be fast asleep by the time he got back as he didn't need their accusing stares and pitying glances. He heaved a sigh of relief when he found the bunker dark and silent, quickly making his way to the shower and washing off any remaining smell of the club or the guy that had been all over him.


	3. Chapter 3

2 weeks ago:

_Sam really should have known better. Should have known that plans which formed in the heat of the moment (with the aid of sleep deprivation) would lead to nothing but trouble. But in days yet to come he would always comfort himself with the thought that he had only meant well._

Once Sam had time to process what he had found out, to say that he was pissed would be the understatement of the century. He had spent the better part of _that_ night lying awake, thoughts about Dean running rampage, consuming him like a fire from the inside. Shock and disbelief had given way to rage at his brother. He had heard Dean come in at about 3a.m. and was tempted to just run out and punch him for being such a stupid and repressed ass, sneaking around like he was up to no good and making Sam sick with worry. Also, he wanted to ask him what the hell was going on inside that grapefruit of his. Only the thought of Cas hearing the racket and subsequently finding out about Dean's extra-curricular activities, and the no doubt disastrous effect this would have on the man, had stopped Sam from doing just that. Instead, he buried his head in his pillow and wished for this all to go away.

But over the next few days, instead of getting a grip on the situation, he hadn't been able to quell the rising anger at his brother. On the contrary, it was festering and growing inside him at an alarming rate. He just couldn't get why the hell Dean felt like he couldn't come to talk to him about this? Why he felt the need to creep out at night like a thief instead of just being honest? Did he really think Sam would react badly to finding out that apparently he was into guys as well as girls? Of course... there was the very real possibility that it was just guys now and Sam could see how that might freak someone like Dean out. Not having been on the receiving end of varying sexual attraction Sam had no idea how exactly this should work, only that he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Dean actively involved with a girl. He had put it down to Dean finally growing up and maturing. Well, apparently little did he know!

Sam had been - oh so tempted - more than once to completely bitch out at Dean, especially over the fact that he didn't trust him, his own brother, with something as important but equally insignificant as this. How did Dean expect Sam to react? Disown him? Beat him up? Well, he would be right on the last one but not for the reasons he probably thought. More so because he wanted to get it through Dean's thick skull that he would always be his brother no matter what.

Sam was well aware that they had not exactly been brought up in a very open-minded environment, Dean maybe even more so than him, with having had all the added responsibility rested on his shoulders by their dad. But that had been a life time (and a couple of deaths) ago and they'd had their fair share of mind expanding experiences on the subject over the years. And really, after everything they've been through in their lives, something like who you want to get off with shouldn't even register on the problems scale. But Sam also knew Dean and his issues on the subject. He had come a long way over the years for sure, but obviously still not far enough. Or maybe he had always felt the attraction and tried to overcompensate by going after women the way he used to?

Sam remembered all the times he had jokingly pulled Dean's leg over this, and it made him cringe. Did he somehow send out vibes that he would not be ok about two guys together? Was his past behaviour the reason Dean had kept quiet? No, surely Dean knew him better than that. But it had Sam wonder how he would react if the shoe was on the other foot. If it was him suddenly realising he liked men? Would he disclose this freely to his brother? Maybe it was his time spent away at Stanford that had broadened his horizons, but he was sure that the answer to that one would be yes. He would not get this worked up about finding guys sexually attractive.

Sam had trouble focusing on anything else, the research he had thrown himself into alongside Cas was going torturously slow. He just couldn't force his mind to stay on track. His head was hurting on a regular basis from trying to make sense of the situation, lack of sleep, because even at night he could not escape his mind and the subsequent consumption of too much alcohol. The drinking was especially unprofitable to his physical recovery, but Sam couldn't care less about that when suddenly the whole world shifted on its axis around him.

He just couldn't help it. Every time he looked at Dean it was like he was looking at a stranger. Just looking at Dean had him on edge. Who was this guy – brother - in front of him? If he didn't trust Sam with this, what else might he be keeping to himself? And Cas, Sam didn't even want to think about Cas and how he would react if he ever found out. God, he prayed it would not come to that. It would quite possibly crush him. And Sam felt utterly helpless. To keep on telling Cas to get over Dean because he would not be able to return his feelings suddenly felt like a blatant lie.

He wished he could just talk some sense into Dean. Only that he couldn't guarantee to keep level headed enough to not bite Dean's head off (quite literally), as Dean's secrecy about his sexuality or flexibility thereof was one thing, but doing this to Cas behind his back was something else entirely. And for whatever reason Sam felt betrayed on Cas' behalf. He felt his blood boil time and time again at the idea of Dean out there, doing it with some random strangers when Cas was right here, in front of him. Sam definitely wouldn't want Dean to just give Cas a 'pity fuck', because if anything that would be worse. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that while Dean now liked guys it appeared that he didn't care for Cas that way. Was there something wrong with Cas? Just rolling that thought around in his head felt off. It didn't sit quite right.

From Sam's objective point of view, Cas could be described as very handsome for a guy. Also there was their history. Sam had felt the tension and vibes they gave off, even long before he knew what he did now. Why were those two not together? It was quite apparent to Sam now that they had always been tethering on the edge of something more. It left him wondering if somehow he had missed something important.

What made things even more unbearable in the bunker was that Dean's mood had reached a new level of foul, and Sam just didn't get why. Assuming he went and got some every time he went on one of his mystery excursions, shouldn't the guy be floating on cloud 9 or something? Why else would he go out looking for sex, if it wasn't doing anything good for him?

But instead Dean seemed to be drawing even further into himself, keeping conversation to an absolute minimum. When he had to interact, he was bordering on rude, asking brief questions about the research and avoiding Cas like the plague. Sam had no idea how much longer he would be able to stand Cas' fallen, defeated face and he had even less of an idea how Dean could stand to continuously inflict hurt on his once friend and seemingly not give a crap.

Cas, on his part, appeared to have all but given up on talking to Dean, choosing to ignore him instead. Still, on occasion Sam had noticed the way Cas' eyes wandered over to Dean when they were in the same room. He saw the sadness in them but also the increasing amount of fury. On one or two occasions, when Dean had been particularly pissy, Sam could have sworn Cas looked like he wanted to smite him. (He at least seemed to have held onto his ability to reduce someone to a quivering mess with a look). Sam was rather grateful he was not on the receiving end of those glares, but wondered how these could go unnoticed by Dean unless he purposefully ignored them.

But after a few days of deliberation, of juggling these conglomerates of thoughts around in his head, instead of sleeping, a brainwave had hit him at around 2 a.m. That light bulb moment that had Sam realise that there was no way Dean was not romantically inclined towards Cas. He had naively come to accept that whatever feelings Dean harboured for Cas were void of any sexual desire, despite the long staring matches those two got locked into on a regular basis. But now with all the pieces on the board, Sam could suddenly see the bigger picture. Dean's feelings were just messed up and well hidden, like anything in Dean's life that had to do with emotions. And in true Dean fashion, like so many times before, he went about solving them the hard way, or ignoring them altogether, rather than just being honest with himself.

And at about 5 a.m. that same morning Sam came to the conclusion that he had to do something. He knew talking to Dean would not be well received, and Sam had felt the frustration rolling off of him in waves because all he really wanted to do was to smack both their heads together and tell them to sort out their shit. But he knew as far as Dean was concerned 'talking' would at best earn him a sarcastic remark and at worst, a black eye. No, he had to be more subtle than that. He needed to give Dean a non verbal push in the right direction without being too obvious. Maybe dropping the occasional hint on the matter and generally showing himself as supportive would eventually get him out of his shell. But in the meantime Sam also felt he had to do damage control with regards to Cas, as really, the guy was suffering for no good reason at all other than Dean being, well… Dean.

So when Cas shuffled into the kitchen that morning looking like death warmed up (clearly from lack of sleep), and Dean was already sat at the table and sipping his coffee, completely ignoring Cas' existence, Sam acted without thinking. He just wanted to make his friend feel better. So he put on the brightest smile he could muster after only two hours of sleep and handed Cas a freshly brewed mug of coffee, black, one sugar, while brushing his fingers against Castiel's knuckles (and letting them linger), really only as a silent sign of 'I'm here'. But the hell … he hadn't in his wildest dreams accounted for Dean's reaction. Within the blink of an eye Dean looked absolutely livid and like he was about to punch him. He clearly had seen the little exchange and glared at Sam for a second before realising Sam was staring back and bringing his gaze back to his mug.

Oh my god! Sam could actually feel his stomach give an excited flip. Dean was jealous! Sam would bet his nonexistent savings on that. Of course he would be, if he indeed had romantic feelings for Cas. If anything, Dean was territorial, and just because he wouldn't allow himself to have something didn't mean he would want anyone else to have it.

And Sam should have known that ideas borne out of the heat of the moment, and with only two hours sleep under his belt, generally don't lead to anything good but at that point he felt like he had found the Holy Grail. It would be totally juvenile, but then so was the way Dean was acting right now. He would be just temporarily stooping down to his brother's level. All he would need to do was make Dean a little jealous, quite possibly risking getting a good beating in the process, but the situation should really solve itself. And he was totally willing to take one for the team, so to speak, if it meant helping those two along.

Trying to act like he hadn't noticed Dean's reaction at all, he turned his attention back to Cas (who still looked at him with that confused sideways glance) and gave him another smile. Cas looked kind of gorgeous with the way he had his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question as his eyes travelled down to where Sam's hand was still on top of his around the coffee mug. "Oh," Sam chuckled, removing his hand and acting inconspicuous, before asking him in a sweet voice and with an even sweeter smile whether he wanted any toast with that.

Cas felt like his eyebrows were disappearing into his hairline, he raised them so high at Sam's …well, _unique_ behaviour. He knew he still had a lot of catching up to do when it came to human non-verbal communication but he thought he at least had the Winchester brothers down pretty well by now. Obviously he had been mistaken as all of a sudden Sam just wasn't making any sense. And he really didn't need Sam to start acting weird on top of Dean's recent irrational behaviour. There was only so much he could handle while still figuring himself out. Cas really needed Sam around as his friend. He had no trouble acknowledging that fact to himself. He needed someone to keep him grounded and the person he had relied on in the past had made it clear that he was not available for that job anymore.

Undeniably he and Sam had inadvertently grown closer in a more personal way over the last week with spending so much time together. Had bonded in a new way over Cas' situation and his feelings towards Dean and also Sam's struggles with his still at times fragile health, but this today was a whole new terrain between them. He was utterly befuddled by the smiles, the extra attention, and all these little fleeting touches Sam continued to sneak in over breakfast.

Cas had no idea what had gotten into Sam. He had come to understand that those kinds of gestures were reserved for a more intimate interaction between two human beings and as for personal space … Respect for personal space was something Dean had spent a great deal of time teaching him, but suddenly, Sam had a total disregard for it as he pressed himself tightly against his back while putting the plate with toast in front of him. What was Sam trying to convey with his actions and how should he react to those little gestures? To simply ignore him felt rude, and Cas had to admit that it was not unpleasant having Sam's attention on him like that. In fact, it felt really nice and was definitely, infinitely better than being ignored. (And he only needed to turn his head slightly to see the way he might as well not exist as far as Dean Winchester was concerned). So he smiled back and even patted Sam's hand with his own when it came to rest on his shoulder when Sam asked him whether he wanted a refill.

Dean had one of those 'what the fuck' moments as he couldn't help but gape at Sam, or more precisely at Sam's hand all over Cas. It took him a moment to regain his composure and acting bored. He tried his goddamn best to avoid this surreal display in front of him; with mixed success if he was being honest. His brother had been acting even more strangely than normal these last couple of days, but what the hell? Maybe Sam had finally lost it and succumbed to the psychological after effects of the trials. He might as well have presented Cas with an announcement of his undying love, the way he was sweet talking him, and don't get Dean started on all the touchy feely business!

If they had been on better terms than they currently were, Dean no doubt would have pulled Sam's leg over his overtly girly behaviour, but as it was, all it did was make him feel sick and like he wanted to punch Sam. How dared he act like this, especially towards Cas. He shoved the plate with half eaten toast away from himself. He was not hungry anymore. Instead, he held on tightly to his mug and gulped down the coffee so aggressively it made him choke. His mood really took a dive for the worst when Cas started to reciprocate Sam's weird advances. Had Dean woken up in a frigging alternate reality? Seeing Cas' hand on Sam's made red hot anger rise up in him. He needed to get out of here, right the fuck now. God, he felt like he's been suffocating in this damn bunker for the last couple of weeks, with all his messed up feelings towards Cas. But this? Whatever this was, it was too much too handle. He needed to get some relief, or he would either end up punching Sam or, god forbid, Cas, or he would need to head out and go for a ride and try to clear his head.

With a mumbled "I'll leave you girls to it. Don't invite me to the wedding," he aggressively gave his chair a hard shove as he got up.

"You know what Dean, why don't you do all of us a favour and just _shut up_." Both Dean and Sam stood frozen to the spot, staring at Cas, who looked livid and imposing, even while sat at the table, intently boring his blue eyes into Dean.

Dean was flabbergasted for a second, opening and closing his mouth a few times, before shaking his head and exiting the kitchen with a "Yeah… whatever…" He had wanted to say so much more, but was too shocked and hurt by Cas' sudden outburst, but he knew with the way things had been going (and that he was to blame), it was bound to happen eventually. The car was truly stuck in the mud. And really it was only a question of time before Cas would come to loathe him. Maybe Dean should be happy about it. Maybe this way he would finally manage to get Cas and the feelings for him out of his system and could go back to living his ass crazy life in peace. Maybe he would even be able to stop his extracurricular activities and go back to trying to focus on the female half of the population.

Castiel sat at the table and followed Dean's leaving form with his gaze. His eyes, that just a moment ago had been blazing, were now filling up with moisture. God, he hated being human, hated being at the mercy of emotions and feelings without apparently any say. Just a moment ago he had felt rather elated, allowing himself to enjoy the attention Sam was lavishing on him. Because like it or not, Cas had no idea what that actually felt like, having someone pay you attention like that, and he hadn't felt this good in a long time. The things a few stupid choice words and glances could do.

And now, with one fucking condescending look and stupid comment from Dean, he felt like he had been punched in the gut. He hated himself for having reacted the way he did. He really should be able to rise above this petty behaviour. But just in that moment, he had felt personally attacked by Dean's comment. Felt like Dean knew and was rubbing it in his face. If only he could rip these feelings for Dean right out of his heart, like his grace had been ripped from his body, he would finally be able to breathe again. And no matter how many times Sam assured him these feelings would eventually pass and he would find someone who would love him just for who he was, right now it hurt to the point where he couldn't even stand to be in the same room with Dean at any one time for more than a few minutes.

"Cas?" He heard Sam's wavering voice, could feel his warm big hand on his shoulder, giving him what he assumed was a comforting squeeze.

"I don't want to talk about it, if that is ok," Cas said through tightly shut lips. What was there to talk about anyway? He had accepted a while back that Dean would not be interested in him romantically. But he had always hoped they would be able to salvage their friendship after everything they been through. Now he would just have to accept that their friendship had been beyond repair. He would learn to deal and move on. Maybe take Sam's advice on looking for someone who would return his feelings. He could do this. He would not allow himself to be tossed around by this vessel, no - his body now, and its obvious inefficiencies anymore.

"Ok," Sam simply replied but left his hand there on Cas' shoulder in support and when he could feel Cas sink into the touch, he held on tighter, stroking small circles into Cas' shoulder with his thumb. Because plan or not, he did feel for Cas and the effect Dean's behaviour had on the man. And also he was Castiel's friend and he didn't want him to suffer like that. His stomach was churning and if anything, what had just happened had strengthened his resolve to do something. Because this … right now, could not continue. Everyone was miserable and there was no need for that. This was actually one thing they had control over. If only he could pin Dean down and make him talk, this would be so much easier. But when were things ever easy with Dean?

Sam was jolted out of his train of thought when he felt Cas' warm hand on top of his own, giving it a squeeze accompanied by a small "Thank you." Sam felt the intense urge to keep touching Cas and he leaned in and rested his head on top of Cas', taking his hand off Cas' shoulder and wrapping it around his upper torso instead, and Cas grabbed hold of his arm and held on. They stayed like that for what would be considered an inappropriate amount of time between friends but despite Sam telling himself that it was Cas who needed this, Sam would be lying if after everything he'd been through in the last few months, he wasn't in desperate need of some comfort and touch himself. And just for a moment he allowed himself to revel in the feel of warmth from Cas' hand on his forearm and the way his body rested against his chest.

#

Dean was driving aimlessly. He just needed to put some distance between himself and the bunker. The further away he got, the easier breathing became. He knew it was rather early in the day but he needed a drink. The blood in his veins had been replaced by pure rage, which pumped through him with every beat of his heart. He couldn't get the way Sam and Cas had seemed so cozy, so intimate that morning out of his head. And Cas … the way his voice was laced with loathing as he shouted at him. Cas' voice, telling him to shut up, replaying like a broken record and driving Dean insane. Looking for some comfort in the humming of his baby was the natural thing to do and he instinctively put his foot down on the gas pedal, not caring about the speed limit.

God, he could swear he was going mad. Despite the hurt he had felt at the way Cas had addressed him, staring at him with those blue eyes and meeting his own in utter defiance almost like the old Cas, his old Cas, he had felt that familiar yearning for the former angel. Had felt the overwhelming urge to just grab him and push him up against the nearest wall, fucking that insolence right out of him until he would beg him to stop. Stepping on the brakes, he made the car come to a screeching halt. He opened the door and leaned against the frame of the Impala, desperately trying to catch his breath.

No, no, no, no! He would not allow himself to entertain that thought. He could feel his stomach lurch, the idea of giving into his desires sending a shockwave through his whole body. No way was he ever going to go there. He just needed to find a way of getting his perspective right. He was not the kind of guy to have sex with other guys. He would never, touch, kiss or fuck Cas in any way or capacity, nor any other guy. He could feel cold sweat drip down his back, when had he gotten so hot? He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans and just thought about breathing, in, out and in again until his pulse returned to normal. If he could only leave and never have to look at Cas again. But he knew he would not be able to. The only thing worse than being around Cas, would be not having him around anymore. He had no idea how that could realistically work but he was a frigging Winchester and he would figure it out.

Maybe he just needed something to do. Being stuck in that bunker was giving him a severe case of claustrophobia. He just needed to get back on the road and gank something. He decided that when he got back, he would make a few inquiries, see if there was anything nearby that needed taking care of, but for now, he needed that drink, needed to feel numb and take the edge off. Feeling calm enough to drive, Dean got back into the Impala and headed off to the nearest bar he knew would be open at this time of day.

#

The sun was setting when Dean finally stumbled back into the bunker. He knew that he was damn lucky to have made it back without having been stopped for drink driving. The alcohol from his extended visit to a third grade establishment was still sloshing around in his system. He had hoped that the inebriation together with the day he had spent away would have somewhat doused his rage. He even had convinced himself that he would be able to just act normal and join Sam and Cas for dinner or whatever they were doing at this time. But who was he fooling? It only took the muffled, seemingly happy, voices of Sam and Cas coming out of the library to have it all come back, the rage, the anger, the ravenous longing for Cas. Yeah, they didn't need him, Cas didn't need him!

He was getting the feeling that there would not be enough alcohol (or pretty faces with blue eyes who could suck him off) in the world to make him forget and quench his desire for that man. But he was willing to put half of that theory to the test as he went past the kitchen and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. Not bothering with a glass, he took a big swig. Cradling the bottle in his hand he bypassed the library and headed straight for his room, letting out some of his frustration on the door as he banged it shut and resigned himself to this being another night where a bottle would have to keep him warm.

Sam and Cas briefly looked up from the books they were currently studying when they heard the slamming of a door. A quiet nod of understanding passed between them. Both were relieved that Dean had at least made it home in one piece, so much was evident in their faces. Sam had respected Cas' wish not to talk about Dean. After they had eventually moved on from breakfast (and the somewhat impromptu cuddle session), they had spent the rest of the day in the library, working alongside and getting lost in reading up on old lore for hours on end. The silence between them had felt comfortable and Sam noticed Cas glancing and smiling at him on occasion and Sam couldn't help but smile back. It had been a long time since he had seen Cas smile and well, as far as this whole messed up situation went it was a start, and honestly, he felt they had pretty much had hit rock bottom this morning, so things could only get better right?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay in uploading the next chapter. RL got in the way but to make up for lost time, I am planning on having chapter 5 up this weekend

* * *

1 week ago:

_This was when it all went terribly wrong. When the accumulation of choices Sam had made and situations he had allowed to go further than he should have finally came to a cataclysmic head on collision one night. Best laid plans and all that._

Dean's appearances in the bunker had been far and few between over the last couple of days. He had become but a mere shadow before yesterday disappearing completely with the excuse of a hunt a couple of towns over, that allegedly no one else was close enough to take care of. Who was he trying to fool? He could hardly hide his excitement for leaving. Sam could see it written all over his face. This vanishing act in a way blew a massive hole in Sam's 'let's make Dean jealous' plan. But he almost didn't care anymore.

What bothered him though, was that Cas continued to bear the brunt of Dean's ever increasing bad moods, and if it hadn't been with the end goal in sight, he would have ripped Dean a new one over this by now. Like yesterday morning, just before he had left, he had barely managed a mumbled, annoyed sounding, 'yes' when Cas had attempted conversation (Sam had to give it to Cas for at least still trying),simply asking him whether he had had a pleasant evening. As was the norm lately, Dean had not even bothered to look at him. Sam could see in Cas' eyes that he had reached his limits as he stormed out of the kitchen with a "whatever…" under his breath, and Sam couldn't blame him. In fact, he had let out a sarcastic huff about the 'uplifting atmosphere in the room' and followed Cas out, which in turn led to Dean slamming his coffee mug on the table and leaving, yelling after them that he was leaving for the hunt and would not know when he would be back. At least he had given them that courtesy.

Sam wished he could have felt smug about the way that Dean had stormed out of the bunker but all it did was leave him deflated. It was not quite how he had hoped this thing would work. He wished he at least could take this as a small victory in his quest to get Dean to open up, but it fell short of that too. If anything, Dean was one hard nut to crack. He proved more resilient (or in denial) than Sam had originally anticipated. Sam had at times wondered whether he had gotten this all wrong after all. Whether Dean just really wasn't into Cas. But then he would catch the way Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes when he thought no one was watching and he just saw it. Just a brief flicker of longing and sadness, and dare Sam say, the look of feeling lost, flashing over his face before it went back to his default expression of annoyance, confirming Sam's assumption about him having those kind of feelings for Cas.

Sam just couldn't get why, oh why, Dean was not able to admit as much. What would be so bad about wanting Cas? If he could go out and have sex with random guys then the fact of being into dudes surely couldn't be the issue, well, not the main one for sure. Maybe it was still his hang-ups with relationships in general that stopped him from pursuing anything. But where Dean might have a case when it came to civilians, who were not used to living the life, surely Cas did not fit that mold. He was a warrior, a fighter and even now, having been stripped of his angelic powers, Sam could sense that this instinct, this fierceness was still there, still an integral part of Cas. They would just have to find new ways for him to be able to harness them.

This realisation made the fact that Cas seemed so vulnerable, so fragile when it came to working out his humanity, and on top of that how easily he was being wounded by Dean, all the more painful to watch.

All these thoughts were sloshing around Sam's mind on repeat as he went on with his day to day duties. And yes, those mainly involved spending time with and around Cas. And Sam didn't mind. On the contrary! Honestly, the thing that really should have had Sam's alarm bells ringing, have him on high alert with regards to Cas, was the fact that even once Dean had left he didn't really let up with the smiles and the touches, and was generally just enjoying Cas' company. He convinced himself that they just had fallen into a comfortable kind of routine and Cas seemed happy and was smiling more than Sam could ever remember him doing, so why rock the boat?

Cas, on his part, seemed to get increasingly comfortable in initiating his own hugs and touches at random times. From a 'learning about humanity' point of view Sam thought that was kind of a big step for him. Working out people's body language and moods and acting accordingly. But even more than the company while researching on how to find the other angels and restore heaven, he enjoyed the small, almost insignificant moments. They realised that they actually had quite a bit in common and their time together turned more and more into the socialising kind of hanging out, talking over a few beers in the evening and even making plans to go and hit one of the local bars one of these days.

Although it had not slipped Sam's attention that Dean was a non-topic as far as Cas was concerned and Sam respected this for the time being, not wanting to push him beyond what he was ready to handle. He knew Cas needed time to heal emotionally and trusted him to come and talk to him when he felt ready. He only wished he could just tell him about his suspicions about Dean's behaviour but it was not his secret to tell, just like he had promised Cas to keep his own secret.

Then there had been the few moments when Sam had considered just stopping this, whatever _this_ had become. Definitely not for Dean's benefit, but it was like some kind of red light went off in his head (the one he was generally trying to ignore as really there was no need for it to go off). He felt like he was about to bite off more than he could chew. But then he noticed Dean and the way he so adamantly refused to even acknowledge Cas and images of him getting a blow job from some random stranger came flooding back and reminded Sam of why he was doing this. The one thing that drove him mad though was that he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that put all his senses on high alert, so he went back to ignoring it, a skill well practised in the Winchester family.

But really, all he had to show for it a week later was a Dean that had gotten considerably more jumpy and irritable and generally just flung around cheap insults about Sam and Cas' new found closeness and what was up with all the 'gay' anyway. Sam, on more than once occasion had been dangerously close to blowing up. Wanting to rub all that 'gay' straight back in Dean's face. Like he was one to talk! And he would have, if it hadn't been for the feeling that despite Dean's outwardly 'I don't give a fuck appearance', he was finally starting to get under his skin. He had come to compare Dean to a cornered animal, lashing out before the inevitable. Maybe the few days apart would give Dean the time to stew in his juices and finally grow a pair; sift through his feelings. Sam still fully anticipated getting a good decking by a jealous Dean when it eventually happened, but he could take it for the sake of both his stubborn brother and his miserable friend.

#

Everything was not right with everything, that much Cas could tell despite his limited experience as a human.

Dean had seemed out of sorts more than usual and the few occasions he had been around, Cas had wished he hadn't been, as his moods seemed to have a direct impact on his own. He surely had pushed Cas into experiencing the far darker side of humans emotions. To the point where despite the lingering pain and longing for Dean (and oh, how he wished there just was an off-button for those), he only really missed his cooking, petty as that sounded. Cas had finally started to appreciate food as something more than sustenance for his body and he had to give it to Dean, he could cook. He had started to question whether it was actually possible to love and hate someone simultaneously, like two sides of the same coin. He felt at times these opposing forces were tearing him apart from the inside. So the relief at Dean's departure for a hunt was palatable, much to Cas' own dismay, as until now he had never thought he would reach the actual point of preferring Dean's absence to his presence.

Cas could tell that Sam had not been unaffected by the suffocating atmosphere either. The younger Winchester tried to hide it well, with all the smiles and light hearted banter they had started to engage in, but Cas wasn't quite buying it. He couldn't help but notice the heavy silence and weighty stares between the brothers and it made him want to hit Dean, adding righteous anger (that was what it felt like anyway) to his new array of human emotions. Treating him this way was one thing, in the end Dean didn't really owe him anything. But Sam was his brother and after everything they had gone through in the past, Sam didn't deserve to be treated like a mere inconvenience. He could only assume that Dean and his distant demeanour was part of the reason for Sam's increased emotional and physical attention towards him, as Dean's wrath for whatever reason now seemed to extend to Sam as well.

Despite Dean's way of poisoning the atmosphere with just his presence, or maybe because of it, Cas had come to treasure the time spent with Sam. He made him feel wanted, like he really didn't mind spending time with him. He was enthralling company and it was a good way of distraction. He much rather was with Sam than being on his own and having his thoughts revolve around Dean and the loss and rage he felt every time he thought about the hunter. And it hurt, and more than anything Cas wanted to stop hurting.

At least now that Dean had left the oppressing atmosphere in the bunker was starting to lift. He felt like slowly, he was able to breathe again. If it only hadn't been for the intense anger directed at himself for feeling this way, he would almost say that he was, for the first time, feeling some kind of contentedness. But the anger was there. How did he and Dean get to this point of being so uncomfortable around each other that the only moments of respite were when they were apart? Cas still did not understand what he had done to drive Dean away like he apparently had. But he was too afraid to ask, too afraid to hear something that he would not be able to fix.

He was just grateful he had Sam in his life. Sam had managed to make him smile and even laugh. Still there was always that slight niggle, that small voice that reminded him how much he had wanted something like this with Dean. He just became better at blending it out and instead to focus on the positive. Like that one time he and Sam were both buckling over, his body shaking with a full on belly laugh with tears streaming down his face. (That had been a totally fascinating experience, he had LOVED it). He quite enjoyed this side of humanity. To be able to poke fun at seemingly mindless things, even in the face of adversity, as really, the threat of the fallen angels and all that possibly entailed was still looming over them. But in those small moments all was good with the world.

Cas had tried to not let it affect him, let this good, giddy feeling not influence the way he treated Sam differently than before, but he was well aware that it had. Somewhere along the line he had stopped fighting acting like he had 'a stick up his ass' (courtesy of Dean) and decided to go with the flow, as he had been told so many times by both brothers. He actually thought he'd finally got the meaning of what that meant. He had come to enjoy and crave the human contact Sam provided, even started to take pleasure in its unpredictability at times, and was eager to find out more and learn to adapt to it.

Most of all, Cas had come to love their time spent in the library. The vast amount of history this place held was fascinating and to be able to share this with someone was just a bonus. In fact, the library had become somewhat of a second home to him and Sam, especially over this last week, to the point where Sam had put extra cushions and blankets on the arm chairs. As he said, it was only a precaution, after they both had fallen asleep during research and woken up with aching bodies and stiff necks, which had annoyed Cas as he couldn't heal them, but just had to rely on good old fashioned stretching to work out the kinks.

And then there was the mystery of Sam and his behaviour. Cas could feel himself getting drawn into working Sam and his motives out. Sam seemed entirely at ease around him. Talking and laughing and even touching him like he really wanted to. This was at stark contrast with what he had experienced with Dean or most other human beings up to now. Cas drank it all in, like a dying man in the desert, finally finding water. Despite this contented buzz he felt coming off of Sam lately he tried not to read too much into it, but instead let logic prevail. Most likely Sam was trying to overcompensate for Dean's increasingly pissy and irrational behaviour, needing some friendly company. And well, they did make each other laugh, something they were in dire need of.

On his part though, Cas had most definitely noticed his body reacting to Sam's proximity and affection in other, very human ways. His body seemed to have become sexually responsive to him. And it was confusing and very distracting to say the least. Like his body had become hyper aware with regards to Sam's whereabouts. Sam's touches had his skin prickle and his whole body thrum with charged anticipation, and sending spikes of current through his spine. He felt on edge around Sam, but not in a way he would describe as unpleasant. He was torn between fighting those impulses and relishing them for what they were. If only he could be certain whether it was okay to feel these things about Sam. Cas did not want to upset him and also, he had trouble reconciling his body's apparent physical interest in Sam with his deeply routed feelings for Dean, despite the non-existant chances of those ever being returned.

He deemed it best not to over think whatever was, or was not going on, having been accused of doing so in the past, too many times to count. Instead, he would just take each day as it came. Humans were confusing at the best of times, and Cas was sure he could spend the rest of his existence trying to figure them out and still fail.

#

Sam had come to think of their time together as special as well, almost like some kind of refuge from the crazy that was going on around them. Truth be told, in the short span of a week he had grown accustomed to having Cas by his side. He and Cas did have a lot in common and talking always seemed to come easy to them. He had come to appreciate Cas' dry wit and loved making him laugh, something the ex-angel hadn't done enough of in the past.

It was refreshing, being able to be carefree with another human being, not having to watch every word, and Sam hadn't quite realised how much he had missed just this. Life had not given him much opportunity to miss something so simple but inherently necessary like companionship, and he enjoyed the connection that had started to form between them. Beyond that, he didn't want to think too much of what had started to feel like just a tad more than plain camaraderie. Were the lines getting blurred? Maybe, but it was not like any of his relationships with other people had ever been straight forward and maybe they had to define their own lines.

So, asking Cas to join him on the couch for a movie night, popcorn and drink included seemed like a reasonable and innocent enough thing to do between two friends who lately spent most of their time in each others pockets anyway. With Dean gone and a raging storm going on outside, a night in, doing nothing but relaxing seemed like the perfect thing to do. Plus, Cas desperately needed educating in classic movies. Sam was in a really good mood, singing along to the radio as the corn was popping. Of course it wasn't meant to last, as his mobile buzzed and Dean was on the other end, sounding pissed off, like he would rather suck on a lemon than speak to Sam. After they hung up, following a short and tense conversation about the hunt (and a snide remark about Cas), Sam didn't even know what the purpose of this call had been. If it was Dean's way of extending an olive branch, the guy seriously needed lessons. Sam's mood had definitely taken a nose dive.

It must have still showed when he came into the living area, if the way Cas' own expression went from a smile to a frown was anything to go by. Sam set down the popcorn on the table and flopped himself next to Cas on the couch, letting out a big sigh.

Cas, who had been absorbed in a book, put it down and turned to face Sam, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He could feel his skin tingle with the nervous energy Sam emitted. He didn't want to pry, although he would bet all his non existent belongings on it being Dean that had gotten Sam in such a funk. He was still not very good with words and didn't want to say anything wrong, didn't want to make Sam feel worse, but he did want to show Sam his support and remind him that he was not in this alone. Remembering how effective simple gestures could be, he placed a hand encouragingly on Sam's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, something that had worked well for him when had had needed comforting.

After a few strained exhales, he could feel Sam relax under his touch. Sam turned to face him, their eyes locking and Cas stomach gave an excited flip. A thrill of something new, something like a prickle of energy shot straight through him and down his body. Sam held his gaze, for how long Cas had no idea. He desperately wanted to look away but at the same time he could not make himself. Sam had warm, kind eyes and they seemed to draw Cas in until he couldn't think straight anymore.

It startled him when Sam jumped up without warning, mumbling something like "forgot the drink" and raced out towards the kitchen. Cas gawked after him, mouth hanging open, wondering whether he had he done something wrong.

What the fuck had just happened? Sam leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a few desperately needed deep breaths, his body was shaking for fucks sake! Cas' hand on his shoulder was really not something new and it had the no doubt desired effect of calming him down. He had gotten used to the man's touch over the last week and generally welcomed it. But those fucking eyes …and the way they were taking him in, were staring at him in that hard to describe way, like Cas was trying to look into his soul, suddenly had Sam spellbound and his pulse sped up. He couldn't look away, didn't want to ... well, until cold hard panic started to coil in his gut and he had to get out of there. Thank god that he really had forgotten the drinks.

All he would need was a minute to get his head back straight, to collect himself. But that nervous feeling of anticipation, of tingling in all the right places, had felt fantastic while it lasted. It had been too long since Sam had felt anything close to that and he decided that when this was all over, the first thing he would do was head out and flirt with anyone who was willing just for the sake of it, just to experience the elation.

When he felt sufficiently calmed down he returned, beers in hand and handing one to Cas without saying anything, giving him a somewhat nervous smile. He actually could feel his lips quiver. He still looked spooked and Sam tried his best to ignore this while he got the movie ready. He could feel Cas' gaze on him, and the thought of being watched closely like that had him tremble. Distraction was what Cas, what they both, would need.

And well … maybe Sam could have kept the pretence of ignorance up if it hadn't been for the fact that the minute he sat back down on the couch, way too close to Cas, he realised too late, you could have set the air on fire, it was so charged. His body went rigid, every muscle tensing, every sense on full alert. In hindsight, this was the exact moment he should have called it quits, should have gotten off that couch and ran. Not listening to his body and what it was telling him. But of course Sam never did the sensible thing. There was something about playing with fire that just drew him in. He hadn't felt this alive in … like forever.

Cas was continuously throwing glances his way, Sam knew without as much as looking over in his direction. The sheer force of Cas' gaze had Sam feel hot all over in no time and he couldn't pay any attention to the movie whatsoever. No way was he going to do anything silly but this felt good, sensing, feeling, anticipating… it felt incredible. He could just sit here and soak in all these emotions and deal with them later.

Cas really had no idea how to act or to proceed. Fish – water. Something clearly had passed between him and Sam. When Sam had raced out of the room and left him alone on the couch, he couldn't help but feel like he had overstepped some kind of unspoken boundary of friendship. He felt sorry that he had made Sam feel uncomfortable and fully intended on apologising as soon as he was back. Only that the second his eyes set sight on him again the words got stuck in his throat. Not helped in the slightest by the shy, nervous smile Sam was addressing at him. All he knew, all he could feel, was that every cell in his body was screaming at him. He could not tear his eyes away from Sam as he manhandled the DVD player. He let his eyes roam freely over Sam's very appealing body, feeling safe in the knowledge that he was not able to see him and also that looking in itself was nothing he should feel bad for.

Only that taking in Sam in all his glory had his own body responding more urgently and aggressively than before. He could feel himself swell with desire and recognised it immediately for what it was. Sexual arousal. He had since that first aborted try taken care of and experimented with his physical needs a few times and had come to take immense pleasure in this aspect of his humanity. But now the thought, the simple idea to touch, to feel someone else's skin under his hands, a real warm body pressed up close against his, and maybe have hands not his own having touch him in return left him with the air knocked out of his lungs. And god, Sam did nothing to help the situation. On the contrary, when he sat back down he was way too close to help Cas' situation, half of the couch was apparently forgotten as Sam sat down right next to him. Surely Sam, being the far more experienced one in this area, must know what he was doing to him.

For a split second Cas considered cutting this evening short and excusing himself, but he could not, did not want to move and neither did Sam it appeared. His system was being overloaded to the point of hurting and if something, anything was on offer on Sam's part, a new way for Cas to experience humanity and closeness, he desperately wanted to find out what that could feel like. Who knew when he next might get a chance to experience this? Curiosity had always been one of his biggest assets and flaws (depending on who you asked) and right now he wanted to know everything there was about Sam and his body. Was this lust he was experiencing? Cas had no idea what made his hand move but somehow it had ended up right next to Sam's thigh, knuckles brushing against the denim of his jeans. Cas held his breath. 'Guess this could be it'. This was where Sam could either push him away or draw him in.

Sam's own breath hitched. He could feel Cas' hand rest next to his thigh on the sofa, the small pressure of knuckles against his trousers making him shiver. And shit, Sam could feel his pulse race at the way he felt the heat of Cas' hand radiate into his thigh. Thankfully Cas didn't move his hand any closer as Sam was pretty positive he would not be able to push it away. They stayed like that for a long time, in a state of hyper awareness and haze, to the point where Sam was sure he was to go out of his mind, or to faint from erratic breathing, whichever would come first. His brain was screaming 'leave' and 'stay, do something' at him on a loop. Shit, what was he to do?

Cas had no idea what the movie was even about. For the last half hour or so he was fighting an internal battle of epic proportions. Everything in his body was blaring at him, demanding to be touched, and not just by anyone but by Sam. Also he wanted to touch, could feel his fingertips tingle in anticipation of what Sam's skin might feel like. His body was covered in goose bumps and he felt so hot he wished he could just rip off his shirt. But he did not want to mess this up. He had not enough experience to go by to figure this one out. All he knew was that he desired, that he needed. This craving was rising exponentially the longer he was sat here next to Sam. He replayed everything that had transpired between them during this last week over and over in his head. Looking for any additional clues, anything that could serve as a road map to figure out what to do next. He noticed his free hand still clutched tightly to the bottle Sam had given him earlier. He took a swig of beer from the bottle and realised to his frustration that it was now empty and slammed it down on the table with more force than necessary, letting out some of his pent up frustration.

Sam's head jerked up at the noise and god, Cas looked completely wrecked and wound tight like a wind up toy, short, sharp gasps escaping his mouth.

"Cas…?" Sam croaked desperately, throat too dry to work. What he was asking for he had no idea.

Cas turned his head at the mention of his name and their eyes locked for the second time that evening and the room exploded. They were both lost in a cloud of heat and want and need.

Sam saw Cas' Adam's apple bob frantically as he swallowed in quick succession. And he looked so endearing, so delectable at that moment, Sam's brain shut down. He moved one of his hands up and carded his fingers through the back of Cas' short dark strands of hair, being only mildly surprised that Cas let him. In fact, he was leaning into the touch and sighed contentedly. Sam's head started to spin and he tried desperately to regain some kind of control, and then, without warning, Cas moved. Sam felt his hand on his cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb as he turned his face toward him.

Sam gulped and couldn't move. The way Cas looked at him had him forget to take in air. Cas was all dark eyes and full lips, which he licked, letting his gaze drift from Sam's eyes down to his lips and up again. And there were no words needed. Sam knew perfectly well what Cas was asking for. Sam's throat went bone dry and he swallowed nervously, letting his eyelids fall closed… he was closing his fucking eyes, he thought even as he felt Cas' lips meet his own. Cas let out a whimper of need that went straight to Sam's groin, feeling his cock start to fill, and he couldn't care about anything anymore. He was getting hard and he needed this, craved contact and friction. He grabbed Cas hard by the shoulders and, still kissing him, pulled him into his lap.

This was amazing! Within seconds Cas was all over Sam, kissing and nipping and biting his lips, neck, collar bone, every inch of skin he could get his mouth on. Sam had pulled him into his lap and grabbed him hard around his ass, bringing him in closer, their erections pressed together tightly, urging Cas on to move and he happily obliged. He let his body take over and followed Sam's rough and urgent instructions about angles and speed, keening and moaning as he felt Sam's hand tugging and tearing open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. And then Sam's lips were on his nipples and Cas couldn't hold it in any longer. He was screaming profanities and begging Sam for more even as his own hands pulled off his shirt and he let his hands roam over his chest and arms.

They continued to devour each other with their mouths, kissing messily, teeth clashing as they both fought for dominance. They ground against each other hard and fast, both knowing this would be over very, very fast if they didn't slow down, but neither giving a fuck about it. On the contrary, Sam's hands were inside Cas' pants, gripping his ass cheeks and orchestrating Cas to move and undulate his hips in a brutal and fast fashion. His head was swimming from the sensory overload and he was close, knew he wouldn't need much more to get there. Cas was above him, panting and beginning to shake, his movements becoming more erratic and Sam increased his own thrusts, lifting his hips up from the couch he was grinding up so hard. He wanted to push them both over the edge, was desperate for the impeding release he hadn't felt in too long.

#

Dean was exhausted. His whole body was sore and tired from the hunt and the ten hour round trip. It had turned out to be a basic salt and burn (Dean had been a bit rusty as really he hadn't had one of those in a long time) but he managed to gank the bastard, with only minor injuries. Meaning and few bruises and his shoulder hurting like a bitch from where he was flung into a wall. But he welcomed the pain and the fatigue. He had not really thought about his feelings for Cas for almost two days. He felt almost elated by this. He was hopeful that going back to hunting would take his mind off of things and he had been right. It was just this whole being cooped up in the bunker all the time that was messing with him.

He was so confident that he would be able to get this under control now; he hadn't even felt the need to stay over in a motel to stay away. Now all he wanted was a bottle of whiskey to numb the pain and his bed and sleep for a week. He had thought he'd finally made his peace with alcohol but falling back into old habits just seemed too temping at times and he was too tired to be bothered by it. He even valiantly managed to ignore the increasing knotting in his stomach the closer he got to the bunker. Like so many times before, he just prayed the two stooges would be asleep by now as he didn't much fancy any human interaction tonight. Didn't need to see Sam and Cas being all cosy and cooped up with each other.

But despite of whatever messed up version of domestic bliss his brother and the ex angel were living out, Dean had not been prepared to see what he did as he silently made his way through the front door and past the living area. He actually had to look twice to make sure he was not hallucinating. Cas was sitting in his brother's lap and they were kissing each other with brutal force, almost feral, while low groans and grunts left their mouths at irregular intervals. Cas' shirt was hanging half open and Sam's was discarded on the floor. Cas' hands were very eagerly exploring the expanse of Sam's chest while his brother's hands were further south on a body part of Cas that should not be touched in that way. They were gyrating against each other like horny teenagers, and by the looks and urgency of their movements they were both close to coming.

Dean felt his world implode on him, shrapnel like pieces of it piercing his body with a crippling force. He was too shocked to do anything; his body was heavy and numb, even yelling seemed like too much. He couldn't breathe and he needed to get out of here as fast as possible. His body was cramping up and he could feel bile rise in his throat. As soon as he managed to get outside he was violently sick, bringing up the entire contents of his stomach. Tears were pricking at his eyes, demanding to be shed.

To say he felt betrayed would not cover even a tenth of what he currently felt. Well, he didn't honestly know what to feel but that didn't stop his body from shaking and his stomach from spasming again and his throat from gagging as more bile was working its way up.

The two people he cared most about, his brother and Cas, were getting it on behind his back. How long had this been going on? Dean gagged again but nothing more came out. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, too exhausted to stand up yet. What in hell or in heaven or anywhere in between, gave Sam the fucking right to suddenly be into dudes, and to just be ok with it. To see apparently nothing wrong with having the hots for another guy as he very clearly was enjoying every second of what he and Cas were doing. Dean could feel his stomach give another lurch in protest.

And oh god, it was Cas … Cas was into guys as well?! What was happening? If only he had known … well what if he had? Fuck it, Dean knew full well he did not want to be like this. But still, Cas and Sam, seeing them acting on their needs like that was like a stab straight to his heart.

And on some level Dean knew, even as he tried not to acknowledge it, that he only had himself to blame. As he had basically shoved these two into each others arms by the way he had been pushing them away. And he could not take this. There was just no way he would ever be able to look them in the eye again, without wanting to kill Sam … and Cas… no, he just needed to get away. He turned on his heels and jumped into the Impala. Mind made up. He needed to leave and not come back. Before he would go back in there and hurt someone.


	5. Chapter 5

Now:

_How did it all get so messed up? How did they all end up here? Sitting at the table, glaring daggers at each other, or more precisely at the wall, with the atmosphere between them charged like the smallest spark would end up causing a supernova? Which most likely was what would be about to happen any second now_

_._

A week. It's been one frigging week. 7 days, 168 hours since Cas and Sam had blurred the line between friendship and something more. They had ended up spending most of that night on the couch, touching, rutting, feeling and kissing each other within an inch of their lives. They had been too worked up in the thrill that came with sexual release to care about the possible damage they might be doing to their friendship. Passion and need had taken over and even their climax hadn't slowed them down. On the contrary, it had only edged them on to chase it again, moving on to using their hands and they didn't stop until they had come again and marked each others torsos with bites and bruises and scratches.

Inevitably the next morning had to arrive and with it the realisation of the gravity of what had occurred between them. They had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted but sated, and hours later woken up stiff and sticky, limbs still entangled and Cas pressed tightly into his chest. Sam remembered clear as day the way they had just looked at each other, Cas' blue eyes still tired but also full of apprehension and uncertainty. That confident, at times commanding man from last night was but a mere memory. Sam could feel it in the way his whole body was tense and rigid against his own. Sam himself felt on edge, didn't know what to think, what to do or what to say. Words were failing him. Just for a moment, before reality had set in, he felt content, happy almost. But then the words "this is Cas" were lightning up in his head like a neon sign. How could he have allowed this to happen? He could feel ice cold panic creep up his spine and it took everything he had in him not to let it show.

He had suggested a shower then (separately of course), in a light hearted and joking way, desperately needing time to think. Thankfully Cas had felt the need as well and that was how they parted.

Later that morning they met again over a shared breakfast. Sam bit the bullet and brought up last night and that that it didn't have to mean anything, tried to be all grown up about it and put it into perspective. He was trying to teach Cas about the concept of 'heat of the moment' and 'one night stands', and the former angel seemed relieved at having been given a seemingly acceptable and logical explanation of last night's happenings.

Still, they both could feel a shift in the atmosphere, a new heaviness that had fallen upon them. Despite trying to be jolly and pleasant, their conversations were becoming tense. Both clearly had things on their minds that they were unwilling to share with the other. Despite that, they tried to stick to their established daily routines, doing research but the physical closeness and the ease with which they had interacted before had all but vanished.

Sam for his part felt incredibly guilty for having done this to Cas (and by proxy to Dean. Oh god, he did not want to think about Dean!) He should have known better. Should have been able to keep himself under control. He was not some horny teenager anymore. Although he was fully aware that Cas had been a consenting and eager participant, he couldn't help feeling like he took advantage of Cas and his inexperience, his eagerness to learn. Also while Sam had no trouble admitting to himself that he had loved every second of being with the other man, he had come to the conclusion that it didn't mean he suddenly had become gay.

If the situation was different, if they weren't all tangled up in this weird web of secrets and lies and deep rooted emotions, would he entertain the thought of being intimate with Cas again? Probably… for fun. It had been nice to feel wanted and god, on a totally selfish level, it had felt fantastic having someone come undone like that under his hands. But did he have a sudden, deep seated desire for men and anything they have to offer? Sam had given this some serious thought over the last couple of days and while the thought didn't appal him, it didn't particularly excite him either, so he guessed the answer to that was a pretty affirmative 'no'.

He would have loved to just file this away under 'experimenting' or 'curiosity' but that would have been too easy. The one thing that made him cringe every time he thought back to that night was not the fact it had been a guy he had engaged in sexual activities with but the knowledge that it was Cas and how he had failed his brother! Betrayed him on the worst imaginable level. If he hadn't known about Dean and his inclinations, he would have been able to fool himself into believing that this really was not a big deal. That it was just two adults enjoying each other's bodies and company. He could feign ignorance, but he _did_ know about Dean and damn, he should have never ever let it get this far.

In retrospect, in what fucking universe did Sam ever believe that flirting with Cas to get to Dean would lead to anything else than disaster?

What was weighing even more heavily on Sam though (yes that was actually possible) was the fact that it had also been 7 days since he had last heard from Dean. There had been no contact of any kind since that strained, short phone conversation. His phone was either dead or turned off. And none of their hunter friends had heard or set eyes on him. He hadn't even checked in with Garth post hunt, and Sam had exhausted any possible source he could think of to get a hold of his brother. He was going out of his mind with worry, expecting the worst. It would be just their damn luck that one of them would get killed on a standard hunt after everything they've been through. And this time there would be no angels to come to the rescue.

He finally had made up his mind last night, that he would go after his brother. He would just have to find a way to break the news to Cas, who probably would want to accompany him, as he also had seemed to get more antsy about Dean missing with each passing day. Sam was not sure whether bringing Cas along would be the best idea but at the same time could he really tell him not to come?

Above all Sam wanted a chance to fix this whole mess. But honestly, he was starting to fear that he just might not know how to. Especially as both he and Cas had agreed that it would be best if Dean never ever found out about this. Another secret was added to the stack of stuff Sam needed to keep safe and carry around with him and he had no idea how long he would be able to continue like this before he would collapse under it all.

#

Cas had trouble understanding the world the way it currently presented itself before him. For days, he only seemed to exist in a state of pre-Friday and post-Friday. That night weighed most prominently on his mind. He had been surprised and more than just a little bit scared by the way his body had reacted, had just taken over and gone after what it craved without thinking. Oh, in that moment everything had felt perfect. There was no denying he had wanted Sam, had been thinking about the hunter once or twice even before that night. But right there, on the couch, he just desired him in a very basic and carnal fashion. Sam was very attractive and it had felt so good to finally be allowed to touch someone. But if the emotional crash he had experienced the next day was anything to go by, it only confirmed that he was still in love with Dean and the pain of having betrayed both his friends was weighing heavily on him. He wondered how this could possibly feel worse than having lost his grace but it did, it was not just his body that was hurting, muscles and stomach aching from an unknown pain, but his mind as well.

He felt ashamed and like he had used Sam purely for sexual gratification, despite Sam's assurances that this was just something people did sometimes. Sam had called it, 'a one night stand'. Cas even might have been ok with that explanation, hadn't it been for the pained and guilty look on Sam's face, which spoke of far too many unwanted feelings about what had occurred. There was more to it than he let on and his heart broke for his friend and made him feel like the lowest of the low for taking advantage of Sam like that. Sam was his friend. The one who did everything he could to make him feel better about himself. Cas was seriously concerned he had just given him what he thought the ex-angel wanted/needed at the time.

The more time he had to think about it, the more awkward he started to feel around Sam. He tried to act normal, (whatever that looked like anyway, Cas didn't have a clue.) He just didn't want to take any more advantage of the man, and was at a total loss at what interaction would be deemed appropriate to show friendship but to not imply wanting anything more. How close was too close? How many touches were too many? Cas was well aware that he really should have started asking himself these questions weeks ago, and he regretted not having done so. With his limited experience to draw from, the only solution he could think of was starting to keep his distance, being polite but not overly intimate. Part of him missed Sam's close company, missed it so badly it hurt, which he really didn't need on top of all the guilt and pain he was carrying around with him. But he swore to himself not to take advantage of the younger Winchester's helpful nature again.

And then, after a few days, the buzz of worry and shame about what happened with Sam was eclipsed by the increasing concern about Dean. The first few days Cas had been rather relieved that Dean was taking his time returning. It gave him a chance to compose himself again, to find a way of centring and controlling the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. But with every passing day of no news, no sign of life, the atmosphere of anxiety that Sam emanated started to rub off on him. He always had trust in Dean being more than able to take care of himself but he also knew that the older Winchester was hot headed and tended to put himself in dangerous situations without thinking. He should not have gone on this hunt alone. For the first time in weeks, Cas was overwhelmed by the sensation of loss. If he still had his grace, he could just fly off and get Dean out of whatever trouble he might have gotten himself into, but like this, he was no good to help anyone. He didn't even know how to get himself from one place to the next unless it was by walking or taking his chances with a bus.

Cas promised himself that as soon as Dean was back, one way or another, he would have to work on becoming more independent. He had spent enough time relying on the two brothers to look out for him and he wanted to be of help not just a burden. Now they would just have to find Dean first. Perhaps Cas would find the strength to be honest with Dean about his feelings and then take it from there, knowing full well that Dean wouldn't return them, but hoping he might one day be able to handle them. With the truth out, he hoped they then could find a way to rebuild their friendship. All he wanted was the chance to do so. They had let everything fall apart at the seams for far too long and Cas was no longer certain if it could be sewn back the way it was before.

#

Maybe it was poetic justice that it was their shared worry about Dean that after a week of increasing awkwardness brought them back on the same page. When Cas walked into the kitchen that morning, he found Sam sat at the table, head buried in some maps and looking like he hadn't slept all night, which probably he hadn't, and Cas was immediately overwhelmed with an intense feeling of compassion for his suffering friend, despite himself having spent most of the night awake, trying to reason with himself about why Dean Winchester was most likely alive and well.

Cas grabbed himself a mug off the shelf and filled it up with coffee, adding his usual spoon of sugar to it, before pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Sam. Silence stretched for a moment before Sam looked up from the map and Cas raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"It's Dean's last known location," Sam offered in terms of an explanation and pointed to a circle in the middle of the map, staring back at it as though it could magically give him the answers he required.

Cas knew his friend only too well and knew that it was only a matter of time before Sam would want to go after his brother. He was surprised it had taken him this long. Most likely their complicated current relationship was to blame for Sam not having left sooner. But he also knew that there was that brotherly bond between them that had in the past always managed to pull them back together.

"You got anything else to go on?" Cas asked while he let his eyes roam over the map.

"No," Sam sighed and his shoulders slumped. "As you already know, no GPS, no one has heard of him or seen him. I even checked out the local hospitals around the area but there's nothing… It's like he just disappeared off the face of the earth."

Cas could hear the waver in Sam's voice and his own heart was speeding up, a sudden bout of disquiet making his stomach churn. Cas instinctively put his hand on Sam's shoulder, trying to give comfort as much as needing it himself. With that small touch all the notions and worries about the barriers he had tried to pull up dissipated, seemed suddenly so juvenile. First and foremost they were friends and they needed each other right now.

Still he held his breath, body rigid in anticipation of Sam's reaction to the gesture. But he needn't have worried as Sam just turned his upper body and wrapped his arms around Cas, burying his head in the crook of his neck, exhaling deeply and loudly. Cas could feel Sam's body relax into his own, mumbling a half-hearted "I hate my jerk of a brother," followed by a sighed "but I need him to be ok."

"I know," Cas whispered into Sam's hair as he brought his own arms hugging Sam back just as tight.

"I'm sorry," Sam huffed against Cas' neck. "Of course you miss him too."

"It's ok, Sam, we'll figure this out somehow," Cas said warmly, carding his hand through Sam's hair and pulling him even closer.

They were still embracing each other when they heard the front door slam shut and jumped apart.

"Dean?"

#

Dean had no idea what swayed him to go back in the end. He had spent the first two days just driving … driving as far away as he could. With each passing mile he started to feel a little less sick, felt that dagger in his heart twist a little bit less. He had thrown his phone out of the window in a fit of rage, when images of Sam and Cas had once again flashed through his mind, setting off a chain reaction of curses and feelings of such intense wrath, at them, at himself, at the whole fucking world and he didn't want anything to do with them. Hell, he loathed himself so much right now, if he could have just left himself at the roadside he would have very gladly done so. .

That red hot rage had the adrenaline pump through his body and kept him going nonstop for almost two days. Only when he almost fell asleep at the wheel from exhaustion, he checked himself into a motel and spent the next 2 days in a haze of alcohol, sleep and more alcohol. Anything would do to stop him from thinking, from seeing his brother and Cas entangled and sweaty, from hearing their laboured breaths. He did not want to admit the reality of this fucked up situation and most of all could not face his own feelings. It was so much easier to be mad at Cas and his brother for betraying him and having sex, apparently without a care in the world, than facing this dark part of him that he thought he'd (almost) had under control.

Thanks to the alcohol and the distance, his mood had slowly gone from wanting to kill them to just wanting to beat them into a pulp and then to just being livid at his brother and his friend (was he even still his friend?) for daring to be all gay for each other, when he himself could not. That second night he headed out to a random bar with the intention of picking up a girl, any girl who was willing, really, just to prove to himself that he still got it and that he had a choice in this matter despite what his mind was trying to tell him.

Funnily, it had been the girl he had chatted up that got him to open up about this whole mess. He could not remember exactly how she managed to get him talking. But three quarters of a bottle of whiskey in, he had kind of talked himself into a corner and was ranting about his brother and his best friend getting it on behind his back. She had been a smart cookie and picked up on the implied, between the lines jealousy. It only took her a few well aimed questions and some more whiskey to have him spill it all. Why did he have to pick the smart, caring one?

But once it had been out, it felt freeing, like this massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders … and damn his brother for apparently being right about this 'talking' stuff. It had been the first time ever he had as much as admitted that he might have leanings of a sexual nature for the same sex (conveniently 'forgetting' to mention all the blow jobs he had received over the last couple of months), and the worry of what that might make him. He had not been able to mention that 'G' word because he just could not put that label on himself.

Thankfully she had been an open-minded girl (with some experience to boost) and had introduced him to the concept of bisexuality, after establishing that he indeed still found himself attracted to some women. He had let that word and all that it implied sink in for a while. It didn't sound too bad, the more he had let it reverberate in his head, tasted it in his mouth, and while it took off some of this lingering feeling of shame (at least he was only half a 'freak'), it helped little with the fact that he not only found some men attractive but had actually fallen in love with one. Oh god! The train really had hit him at a hundred miles an hour at that moment! He not only just desired Cas in some kind of sexual capacity, he loved Cas …and not just in the 'I want to have sex with you' way but in an 'I can't envisage my life without you' kind of way.

But as happens so often in his life, he had let a good thing slip. Had his head too far up his ass to see the forest for the trees. And now Sam and Cas had found a way to make things work with each other, created something between them. And of course it would be like Sam to just be ok with starting a relationship with a guy. No confusion, no hang-ups. And maybe bisexuality ran in the family? That at least would explain Sam's own sudden interest in Cas.

And really, he could not blame them for trying to find happiness. They did not know about how he felt. He had made damn sure of that. And if it would be up to him, no would ever need to find out, not now. There was no point. The guy he wanted, loved, was starting to find happiness and all he had been doing was making things worse for him.

And after another day spent with more alcohol than blood in his system he just knew what he had to do. He needed to go back and fix what he had broken between them all somehow. Find a way of making up for all the times he had treated them like shit. He was not sure if there was anything left to be salvaged but he had to at least try. This week apart had taught him one thing and that was that he did not want to spend the rest of his life without his brother or Cas. They were the only family he had left and if they didn't stand united against the no doubt oncoming storm, they might as well have already lost.

So after some sobering up, a long, hot shower and a massive breakfast, he jumped back into his baby and did the 2-day return drive in one go. Which probably had not been the best idea as when he finally arrived back at the bunker he was so tired he could hardly walk straight. He needed sleep desperately and hoped he could put off whatever talk they all needed to have for another day.

Of course he hardly had time to close the front door before he heard Sam's and Cas voices shouting out his name in relief and appearing in the hall way.

"Where the hell have you been, man?" Sam yelled at him, looking furious and concerned in a way only Sam could pull off.

"It doesn't matter … can we do this tomorrow? I'm really tired," Dean said, no… more begged. He already could feel his heckles rising at Sam and the way Cas was standing way too close to him. Of course he would be at Sam's side. They probably had a nice and cosy time over this last week. He knew if they did this now it would be disastrous and he was pleading silently at Sam to let it go.

"No man. You don't just get to disappear on us for a week and not give an explanation. I was fucking worried about you, you know that! Sit your sorry ass down. We're going to do this now," Sam gestured in the general direction of the table. Boy, he was scary when he was pissed and Dean was too tired to argue. Best to let Sam get this out of his system. Not like he didn't deserve the scolding.

"Whatever … let's just get this over with then," he huffed and plopped himself down into a chair, followed by Sam and Cas, who of course sat down next to one another, making it very clear in Dean's mind that it would be two against one. He crossed his arms across his chest defensively, Sam and Cas mirrored him perfectly with their own arms.

#

And that was how they all ended up sitting here, around the table, taking turns at staring at one another and the wall, otherwise remaining silent. All of them too scared or too stubborn to be the first one to talk.

Sam could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He was so mad at Dean. He had a hard time not just getting up and hitting him … hard! The fucking bastard, just walking in through the door like nothing had happened and not wanting to give them an explanation. He shot a quick glance over at Cas, who would have looked like serenity itself, if it hadn't been for his jaw clenched tight and the way his eyes were piercing into Dean. Sam had learned to read Cas rather well these last couple of weeks.

The silence stretched on between them until Sam finally couldn't take it anymore.

"So what was this all about then? You know how fucking scared we were for you?" he gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Can't a guy take some time off?" Dean tried to joke, wiggling his eyebrows but couldn't help sounding defensive.

"No you fucking can't! Not without telling someone where the fuck you were going," Sam howled, feeling a real bad tension headache coming on.

"Dean… we were really worried about you and…" Cas said, voice steady and low, trying to calm the mood.

"Stay out of this Cas!" Dean hissed, he might be just about able to deal with Sam, but Cas, no.

"Why Dean?" Cas asked, voice rising in intensity. "You might find it hard to believe, but I was just as worried about you as Sam, in fact we both…"

"WE, _we_? Oh yeah… I almost forgot … you two are a 'two for one deal' these days aren't you?" Dean spat out. Oh god, this had been such a bad idea. He was too tired to control himself. And seeing Cas and Sam like that still hurt more than he had imagined, despite him trying to tell himself that it was his fault they ended up where they were now. He had noticed how they had inched closer to each other in silent support and he just flipped.

"What?" Sam asked incredulously, feeling his face heat up. What was Dean alluring to?

Dean just let out a long sarcastic snarl.

"Dean … I …" Sam tried again, looking over at Cas who stared back at him, licking his lips nervously, something that definitely didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Fuck you both," Dean yelled across the table, that last look of silent conspiracy being the last straw. "You really think I could have stayed under the same roof with you two? With the knowledge that you probably get it on every night."

Sam and Cas eyes flickered stricken and anxious between each other and then back at Dean.

"Dean how…" Sam started, the blush on his face intensifying, and not just from feeling incredibly angry at his brother.

"How the fuck do I know? I goddamn saw you two getting off … on the fucking couch of all places! You know to at least have the fucking decency of going to your room first. It's not something a guy needs to see. It's just not right!" Dean screamed.

"Dean, stop!" Cas gritted out in warning. He just needed Dean to stop. His head was swimming with the information. Dean knew! Knew about him and them … and he left because he thought it was wrong. That by implication Cas and what he felt towards him towards men, was wrong. He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs.

Sam was too angry at Dean's words to pay Cas any attention. He jumped up from his chair, hands curled and pressed against the tabletop, looming threateningly. He had heard enough! Dean was clearly a lost cause, so far back in the closet, Sam had no idea how he ever thought he could possibly be ok with being gay. He was so mad he was actually shaking. He felt Cas' hand on his waist trying to placate him but he was too furious to care.

"Oh come on!" Sam roared, leaning in closer, feeling weeks of built up anger rising up from deep in his gut. "Don't give me that homophobic bullshit! Dean… I fucking know what you've been up to in your spare time… I saw you getting your dick sucked by a guy. So you can stop with this whole pretence." He panted hard as he gritted out these last couple of words, and immediately wished he could shove them back in. The room around him froze; time seemed to suddenly stand still.

Dean couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He just glared at his brother, mouth hanging open and a cold chill working its way up his spine. The impact of what Sam said was hitting him in slow motion. He could feel his heart hammering frantically in his chest. Fear gripped his chest tightly and squeezed it. Shit. Sam knew! Suddenly this was not something he could hide, compartmentalise or tell some pretty stranger in a bar. It was _real_, it was part of his life and Sam knew! He felt like a trapped animal, balling his fists in anger. He was sure he was going to hit Sam, could feel his arm move, but he was pulled out of his stupor by Cas' infuriated voice.

"What?" Cas huffed breathlessly, fixing Dean with his fiery blue eyes. He felt like the floor had just been pulled from under his feet. He refused to believe what he had just heard. There was no way that Dean was … did things, things Cas never thought he would want to do, with other men. He could hear the blood rush in his ears as his hands started to shake. No, this was all wrong. Dean Winchester liked women, not guys! That was a fact he had learned even before he had ever even considered being attracted to him. Cas couldn't sit still any longer, increasing anger and confusion were raging through his veins like poison.

"YOU WHAT?" he yelled louder, getting up from his chair and slinging it halfway across the room. The commotion made the two brothers flinch and stop their impending punch up. He started pacing, breathing hard and laboured.

"Shit…" Dean could hear Sam's voice somewhere in the distance, but his eyes were trained on Cas and the way he seemed to get madder with every passing second.

Sam knew he had said too much the second those words had left his mouth. This was not how he had planned on telling Dean that he knew, and definitely not with Cas present in the room. Oh god, what must Cas be thinking right now?

"You went out and had sex with some random strangers? Men?" Cas still couldn't wrap his head around it, but the way Dean was now averting his eyes, told him everything he needed to know.

"You son of a bitch!" He roared, making Dean jump. "All this time you … did you just pretend to like girls? While you … Dean, why? Why the hell would you do something like this? Lie to us… me like this?" Cas now looked livid and stepped towards Dean.

No, no, no… Dean carded his hands through his hair, not believing this was actually happening. Cas was never supposed to know about this, no one was ever supposed to find out.

"Cas… I…" Dean's meek and broken voice was hardly audible.

"No… don't… just _don't_! In fact … FUCK YOU Dean." And before it could even fully register, Cas' hand, as if on auto-pilot, came up and connected with Dean's jaw, letting all the rage, frustration, loss and a hell of a lot of jealousy flow out of him with the punch.

"The fuck?" Dean groaned, he could feel blood trickle from his split lip. But still he couldn't help but feel like he deserved it and he stared at Cas with wide eyes.

"I … all this time I … I thought you were just not into guys and you know I respected that and even hid how I was attracted to you because I thought you would never … but … but you fucking go out and let some _strangers_ touch you? Have sex with other men. Why Dean? Why anyone else but me? Do you really loathe me that much? At least you should have had the courage to tell me!" Cas was now beyond furious, he felt empty and broken, not able to control or contain the vortex of emotions whirling inside of his chest.

"Cas…" Dean tried again but words got stuck in his throat. Oh my god, Cas had gotten this all wrong. It was precisely because he cared too much for him that he couldn't ever tell him, because he just could not be with a guy like that and Cas deserved better than him.

"I get it. OK, I really do now. You just don't like me like _that_. Well, maybe you don't like me at all. I mean … if I needed any more proof, then this is it," he hissed while continuing to pace the room. Dean just stared at Cas, at the man he had just broken. He could see the tears that were forming in his eyes and he wished he could say something to make this all stop.

"You know what? I'll get out of your hair. You won't have to put up with me any longer," Cas continued before stopping for a second and then facing Sam.

"And while I'm at it … Fuck you too, Sam Winchester. I don't know what to think about you anymore. I thought we were friends. I really thought you of all people were someone that could be trusted. Someone who would not lie to me, not about something like this. Clearly I was mistaken." Sam's mouth hung open in silent protest as his eyes flickered over nervously to look at Dean.

Sam could feel the blood in his veins turn to hot lava. Was Cas really trying to put this on him? Fuck, he knew he had made mistakes, a shitload of them but he only had been wanting to help and anyway…

"What Cas? Mistaken about what? Like you trusting me not to spill your little secret? And you know I didn't … because I respected your privacy. And doesn't Dean deserve the same courtesy? It was clearly something he did not want anyone to know so who was I to tell? You can blame me for a lot of things, but not for that!" He yelled, now facing Cas directly.

Cas stopped, taken aback by Sam's words. He looked like he tried to process what Sam had just said. After a moment he nodded, all fight seemed to have left him and he now looked utterly defeated.

"Of course… you are right Sam, and I apologise. You were only trying to do what you thought was right. Still … I …" he gulped, new tears spilling over his face. "I just don't think I can stay here with you. I … I need to get out of here. I can't do this anymore," Cas said, leaving the room.

"Cas? Where you're going?" Sam yelled after him, his own tears now falling freely.

"I'm leaving. I need some space. I'm suffocating in here," Cas yelled back from across the hall.

And finally Dean felt like he broke free from a long nightmare he just couldn't wake up from. Cas wanting to leave set all the alarm systems in his body off simultaneously and he jumped up from his chair, going after Cas.

"Yes because that's all you fucking do. Leave!" he yelled once he caught up to Cas and grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him around. "You wanna know why I didn't come to you? Why I rather went to strangers? Because I know they leave, in fact I can leave them before the leave me. But you! No matter what… you always fucking leave! And what am I supposed to do then? After I would have given up everything I am, would have changed everything about me… for you?" Dean took a step towards Cas who was standing in the doorway staring at him, having their noses close enough to touch.

"Dean…" Cas rasped out, his body was shaking and his voice refused to cooperate. Dean's words cut him deeply. Did he really believe that Dean could ever really leave him? "I would never leave…"

"No of course not," Dean remarked sarcastically. "Maybe not anymore, now that you lost your angel mojo but…" And even while he said it Dean could feel his blood run cold, knew this was a low blow. And Cas face turned to stone.

"If that is really what you think of me, then I'll be better off gone," he simply stated and turned around heading for his room.

"You know what, great. Go leave! But this time if you do, don't you dare come back. I can't take this anymore."

Dean was shaking from exhaustion. He wanted to run after Cas so badly, but he just couldn't. Pride was a terrible trait. Instead he ran back to the kitchen, took a glass from the table and smashed it against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces. Exactly like his life just had. He grabbed another one, threw that as well and then another before finally hurling a half empty bottle of whiskey after them.

"Dean… you don't mean that," Sam's voice drew him back to the here and now. He had heard their argument and couldn't believe that Dean had told Cas to leave.

"Don't you fucking tell me what I do or do not mean. You have no idea…" Dean was beyond caring that he was crying himself now. So it was a fucking pity party all around. Who cared?

"No I fucking don't." Sam interrupted now yelling as well. "Because YOU DO NOT TELL ME! You choose to swallow it all down, bury it and not deal with any of it. Haven't you learned anything over these last couple of years?"

They stayed like that, frozen to the spot, staring at one another and unable to speak for what felt like hours.

Eventually Sam was starting to feel just really worn out, his head was hammering its own beat and his legs wouldn't carry him anymore. He slid down on the wall and sat down on the floor. "I'm sorry Dean I wanted to tell you that I knew but…"

"It would not have made a difference. I wasn't ready to acknowledge it," Dean huffed, joining his brother on the floor.

"Does that mean you are now?" Sam asked tentatively, not wanting to set Dean off again, but also needing to know. Maybe at least this whole mess was good for something. He needed this to have been good for something.

"No," Dean huffed, but Sam could detect the slightest flutter of a smirk behind that word.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as they sat silently. Both too stubborn to talk and too proud to leave, not wanting to show any weakness. They were both Winchesters after all.

To Sam's great surprise it was Dean who broke the silence first.

"So … you and Cas… are-," Dean didn't get to finish his sentence before Sam shook his head. Dean's gut twisted painfully at the reminder of what Sam and Cas had been up to not so long ago.

"Dude? Then why? What was it even about? Just getting your rocks off?" He asked, not really trying to hide the hurt in his voice.

And it hurt Sam hearing this but he knew he deserved it despite his good intention; he should have never let things get this out of control.

"No! It was just... It was never supposed to happen. I … I just saw how you two were not sorting your shit out and I just wanted to help, and well, I thought making you jealous and… things got really complicated. I would never just use Cas like that, it just … one night it just went too far and I'm so sorry."

"You fucking idiot!" Dean rasped, giving Sam a death glare, before going quiet for a long time. Eventually Sam could see Dean nod his head in understanding and let out a big sigh of relief, a small spark of hope igniting inside of him.

"Does that mean you're 'gay'?" Sam could hear how Dean stumbled over the word but he got it out somehow.

Sam couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle at that. "No, Dean. It does not mean I'm gay. I…" And he looked up and met Dean's gaze that he could feel resting on him. He took in a deep breath. No more secrets no more skirting round the issues. "I enjoyed the time I had with Cas and I like him a lot… but I'm not _in love_ with him or anything like that. And he is most definitely not in love with me," Sam said, letting those words linger between them.

"Mh…" Dean hummed as he let the words sink in. "You're still an idiot though!" he added after a moment.

Feeling a bit braver by Dean's fairly collected reaction Sam felt it was worth a try to address the real issue.

"And you Dean? Are you gay?"

He heard Dean take in an audible gasp. "I … well … Sam … oh god, I … how do I say this…"

"Look Dean I just want you to be happy, that's all that matters and hell, we of all people deserve a bit of happiness."

Dean huffed at that. "Yeah, guess we do."

"So? Are you?" Sam asked again.

"Well, I guess the correct term for me would be bisexual," Dean said, hiding his face in his hands. Still, it felt good acknowledging it to his brother, like for the second time a bit of weight had lifted off his shoulders.

"So chicks and dudes?" Sam enquired just to confirm.

"Yeah, I guess…"

"But one dude in particular?" Sam asked, finally feeling like he was able to breathe again and hoping that Dean would now be able to admit it.

"Yeah," Dean answered, almost chuckling, and suddenly sounded like a nervous teenager. "Annoying little shit at that." He added fondly, almost absentmindedly after a second.

And that was when they heard the door bang shut, bringing them out of their moment.

"Cas!" Dean yelled and got up to go after him but Sam held him back.

"Give him some time. He needs it."

"But … what if he doesn't come back this time? Sam, I haven't told him. He thinks I hate him," Dean asked, panic lacing through his voice.

"It's Cas, he'll be back for you," Sam tried to reassure him and prayed to god that he was right.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Finally, after all the emotional mess, we're starting to head into resolution territory. Hope you will enjoy the way things will unfold.

* * *

1 month later

_Cas did not come back! Of course he wouldn't, Dean reminded himself on an almost daily basis. He had clearly pushed him too far, had made sure Cas wanted to have nothing to do with him ever again. And as for Sam, their relationship was strained at the best of times and Dean didn't know how to make it right again._

He had tried calling Cas, Sam had tried calling him but he never answered his phone. Dean had no idea whether it was to give him a taste of his own medicine or not, but if so, he clearly deserved it. That feeling of just punishment did not stop him from wanting to go after his friend, to find him and somehow make this all ok, but every time Sam stopped him, well, talked to him and convinced him to give Cas more time. Dean knew that if he really wanted to go, nothing could have stopped him. But he was hesitating, out of fear or shame or, most likely, both. That look of finality that Cas had given him kept him awake at night on a regular basis. Still, he wished that the son of a bitch would just let them know that he was alive.

It had been two weeks before there was any sign of life from the former angel. He had called Sam… of course he called Sam! Apparently they shared this unspeakable bond now, maybe due to something that happened while they were getting it on. And Dean had felt his jealousy flare up in full force. Cas had called to let _him _know (not them!) that he was ok but no… he did not want to tell him where he was. He believed that he was better of on his own for now. Sam, the bastard that he was, was all understanding and agreeing with Cas about needing space, while Dean wanted nothing more than to grab the phone and demand of Cas to tell them where the hell he was.

He had hated them both in that moment. For what they had apparently been able to hold on to despite this whole mess. Something that Dean had clearly lost. Sam was the one Cas would contact, the one he still cared for enough to stop him from worrying about his wellbeing. And this resentment did nothing to help healing the relationship between him and his brother. Things were tense and far from fine. Dean just couldn't help it. Sam was the one who got what he himself had wanted, and as much as his logical side knew it was unfair to put this all on Sam, that really Dean had only himself to blame, he couldn't help it. Add to that his ongoing internal struggle with accepting this bisexual side of his, and yes, Dean knew that both he and his relationship with his brother were all kinds of messed up.

Sam had also picked up on the fact that all was not well between them, despite the chat they had that fateful day. Ever since then Dean had withdrawn back into himself, but he could see the strain on his older brother's face. Then after Cas had called, Dean outright started to sulk at him and, being the stubborn bastard that he was, had refused to talk about it. It had taken Sam a whole bottle of whiskey one night to finally get him to open up and they ended up shouting at one another. Thankfully, it eventually turned out to be kind of therapeutic. Dean, for the first time, had let Sam see him for who he really was, every part of him. Even the part which acknowledged that he liked guys but still hated himself for it. He was hurt and confused, and so petrified that he had messed up the one thing that could maybe, possibly have given him some happiness. That he might have scared away someone who could have shared his miserable existence with besides Sam. Because, like it or not, one day Sam would find someone and leave. Dean had made it very clear that he wanted Sam to be happy, but that right now, he also kind of detested him for what he let happen with Cas.

Sam didn't need reminding of that. He still beat himself up over it on an almost daily basis, feeling Dean's pain and anger on top of his own guilt and shame over how carelessly he had crossed the line with Cas, without sparing any thoughts to the consequences. A big part of him wanted to stay angry at his brother for his past behaviour, his stupidity, but he could not any longer, not after the way Dean had spilled his guts to him. He knew it would take them a long way to rebuild their relationship, but after that night it at least seemed like a possibility. It was a start.

Also, he missed Cas. That was not something that was exclusive to Dean. He had to deal with the loss of a good friend, too. In his own way, Sam had developed some kind of feelings for the scruffy guy. It was in no way comparable to what Dean must have been feeling, more like companionship than romance, but it didn't mean it was not valid. Sitting in the library on his own was no fun. There was something missing. There was no one to share his nerdy jokes with, to ask exasperating questions about the most basic of topics. On top of that, he had to be the strong one, for Dean, hiding the true extent of his emotional state, while on the inside going mad with worry about Cas.

He was so relieved when Cas had finally called, and on a totally selfish note was happy that things between them didn't seem to have reached the point of no return. Although he did ask for more time and asked for Sam not to contact him for now. Dean had been mad as hell at him for not squeezing Cas for more information, but Sam just knew pushing Cas too far might just drive him away for good.

And then suddenly 'where and how Cas was' had to take a backseat, as something big and bad was happening over in Illinois. Weird sightings, people turning up dead with their eyes burned out and it just looked and smelled unmistakeably of angels. They had been silent for a long time but for some reason decided to make themselves known now and it was the only lead they had, so the two brothers packed their stuff and headed out to investigate.

#

Cas sat cross-legged on the bed in his motel room, an assortment of newspaper articles and printouts from the local library strewn across his legs. He had been looking for any signs of his brothers and sisters, and after months of nothing, a few days ago things started to happen. It had taken him over a day to get here and book himself into this crappy motel. But he was almost out of money; the little he had taken with him when he had left the bunker had run out a long time ago, so he couldn't afford any luxuries. But he had managed to hustle some money along the way. Who would have thought that all those evenings Sam had tried to teach him poker would come in handy one day. He had just agreed to play a game out of desperation one night but to his great joy, realised that he was rather good at it and since then, he managed to wring a few people out of some money whenever he was short of cash. He had that look of an awkward novice about him and was getting rather good at using it to his advantage. Dean would have been proud of him.

And just like that, his heart started aching, his stomach twisting itself into a painful knot, just like it did every time he allowed his thoughts to focus on Dean. Normally he was pretty good at brushing it aside, focusing on the task at hand but there were times, just like now, when his guard was down and memories, along with the pain of betrayal, and still the longing for the man, were coming back and threatened to overwhelm him.

It had taken him two weeks to just work up enough courage to call Sam to at least let him know that he was alive and well. Initially he had planned on making a clear break, not contacting either of them again. He thought it would be best to leave the brothers to sort out whatever issues they had and then to move on with their lives. He was just a complication, apparently always bringing out the worst in both Winchesters, and with the added guilt over that night with Sam and the raging jealousy and anger about what Dean had done, he thought it was best to keep away.

But in all honestly he had started to miss them, and he was reminded of his and Sam's distress when Dean just left without a word and he did not want to be that person. So he had picked up the phone and called Sam. And it had felt good to hear his voice. Maybe one day he and Sam could rebuild their friendship. As for Dean, Cas was still too raw to even think about him (much). He hoped that eventually he would be able to detangle these emotions and cut them out and then maybe be able to face Dean again. But for now, he knew that he needed to stay away, for his own sanity if nothing else.

Plus, Cas needed to work out this being human business. Needed to learn to stand on his own two feet. Find out his strengths and weaknesses and as people always say, learn from his own mistakes. And he felt he already had made too many of those in his short time as a human. The guilt about the devastation of heaven bore down on him and he needed to find a way to make it right. He was actually very grateful that Sam had taught him about doing research and looking for clues even in the most unlikely of places.

But in the end, it would have been impossible to miss. It was all over the news, the weird sightings and deaths. All of Cas' instincts went to high alert and he packed up what little belongings he had, including his old angel blade, and headed out on the first bus to Illinois. He was desperate to find some answers. If there was even a remote chance one of the fallen angels was there, he needed to risk exposing himself to speak to them. He knew there was a good chance they would want him dead, but if there was a way of making this whole mess right, he would take the risk.

#

Dean and Sam stopped at the first halfway decent looking motel in a town called Savana, near enough to the wildlife reserve where three of the four bodies were found. It was a standard, run of the mill room, with two beds, outdated decor and a clean enough bathroom. While Sam took a leak Dean turned on the TV, looking for a local news station to see if there was any news about the killings.

He unpacked as he listened to the reporter drone on and on, interviewing eye witnesses for what sounded like the millionth time, and Sam soon joined him, going through their inventory, deciding on what they will need for the night, intermittently glancing at the TV. The show cut to a live report from the actual site where the bodies were found, the area still cordoned off by yellow tape and bystanders filling the spaces around it.

Something must have caught Sam's attention as he stared at the screen and Dean looked up as well.

"Dude is that…?" Sam asked incredulously, pointing at a face in the crowd, head covered with a beanie and a short beard hiding part of his face. But Sam was sure he would recognise those blue eyes anywhere.

"Cas…!?" Dean finished the sentence for him. His pulse sped up and he jumped up, staring at the screen in disbelief for a second, before grabbing his jacket and running out towards the Impala. If he still believed in God, he would call this a sign. Cas was here and he would not let this chance pass him by.

"Dean? Where are you going?" Sam yelled after him.

"It's Cas… I have to find him…he's there right now!" Dean shouted as he climbed into the car and drove off, not sparing Sam another glance.

Sam watched him drive off, tail lights disappearing into the distance, with words of "Dean, wait" still hanging on his lips. He went back inside, slamming the door with a lot more force than necessary and cursing under his breath. Stupid brother of his! Always acting on impulse, never thinking things through. Cas had said he needed time, why couldn't Dean get this? He promised himself, if his ass of a brother was going to make this mess worse and drive their friend away for good, he would kill him himself and he was only half joking.

Frustrated and worried, he did the only thing he could, and continued, to the best of his ability, to prepare for any chance encounter with rogue angels that could possibly await them. They were still causing mayhem in the city, even if Dean seemed to have forgotten this fact at the mere mention of Cas' name.

#

Of course, by the time Dean got to the scene, Cas was nowhere to be found. The TV crew was packing up and most of the bystanders had already dispersed, leaving only a handful of people and the police who were guarding the area. Dean asked a few people if they had noticed a guy in a beanie with blue eyes and a beard but no one could remember anything. Of fucking course.

But Cas was around here somewhere and Dean would find him. He was chancing a guess he would be staying in a motel somewhere, unless he was out of money, in which case he would just have to hang around here and wait for him to turn up again. But there were only about 4 motels within a close enough distance to this part of the forest and Dean pulled up the addresses on his phone.

It was in the third motel, a rather cheap and shabby place, that the bored and probably slightly drunk receptionist, after some persuasion with a 20 dollar bill, could vaguely remember a guy fitting that description having booked into no. 15.

And now Dean stood outside the door, hand itching to knock but scared as hell. If Cas was in, what would he even say? Would he just throw the door back in his face? He had made it quite clear that he did not want to be found. Suddenly Dean wasn't feeling so confident anymore. But Dean needed this chance, just one chance to explain himself, to apologise. To tell Cas how he really felt and if he still wanted him gone, he would go. But he owed this to Cas and to himself.

With a final, tense breath he brought his hand up and knocked. He actually didn't expect Cas to open the door, if he had learned anything from Dean and Sam at all, it would be not to open a door if you're not expecting anyone. But clearly, their friend must have missed that lesson as after a moment the door opened a crack and Dean saw one blue eye look out, widening in shock as it took in who was on the other side and then the door swung open, and there he was, Cas. He looked tired and like he had lost some weight, and that beard, that Dean had briefly glanced on the TV earlier, added to the ragged look. After the initial shock, Cas looked at him with a blank expression on his face and Dean gulped, swallowing through the tightness he felt in his throat.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Cas stated dryly and the hunter could feel himself want to hide away from the piercing gaze, from those eyes, but he needed to do this.

"Cas, please, one minute, I just want to talk…" Dean honest to god begged, and if needed, he would fucking get on his knees to get the point across. He just needed this chance.

Cas deflected his pleading request with a question of his own. "So … you're here for the deaths aren't you…?" he let out a small huff. "Of course … I should have expected this… how did you find me though?"

"Well, if you want to stay unfound, best not to hang around TV crews," Dean offered in terms of an explanation and was grateful Cas was at least talking to him.

"Yes, that makes sense. Apparently I still need to learn a lot…" Cas said before allowing himself to look at Dean properly for the first time in weeks. Oh god, how he had missed him and how he had dreaded this moment at the same time. Seeing him again was like pouring salt onto an open wound. The hurt must have shown in his face as Dean visibly cringed.

"Cas… I'm sorry … please … I just need to talk to you."

"What is there to talk about Dean?" Cas asked in a flat tone.

"Ok, then maybe just listen?" Dean knew he sounded desperate but he felt it too, so what if he was going for broke.

Cas seemed to consider this for a moment before he nodded his head.

Dean let out a nervous huff. Now that he had Cas' attention, he actually didn't know what to say, where to even start. 'Sorry' would not be enough. He was still incredibly jealous and - his emotions were running away with him. Cas just looked at him with his unique mixture of expectancy and reservation, and oh god, this was all going to go horribly wrong and this was not what Dean had come here to talk about, but he just needed to know. Just thinking about it still filled him with resentment.

"Do you … have you got feelings for Sam?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Cas looked at him like he suddenly had started to speak Chinese and cocked his head to the side, actually letting out a minute laugh at the question.

"Is that what you came here to ask me?" he sounded surprised and a little bit pissed. Dean could feel his shoulders slump but he held Cas' gaze.

"No, I came to apologise … but now … I just need to know, otherwise whatever I might say next might not mean anything." He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from carrying on and to keep somewhat grounded.

"Of course I have feelings for Sam," Cas stated so matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dean felt like the rug had been pulled from under his feet.

"Oh … I see …" he said, not able to hide the hurt in his voice. He had prepared himself for this. Many long and sleepless nights he had agonised over just this situation. Despite Sam's assurances of not being romantically inclined towards Cas, there had always been the possibility of Cas having developed feelings for Sam.

Cas looked at him, confusion slowly spreading over his face.

"Why wouldn't I have feelings for him? He is a good friend and ... if I'm not mistaken you have feelings for him too."

"Dude!" Dean yelled, "Not _those_ kind of feelings!" he quickly added and gradually the dawning of understanding spread across Cas' face.

"Oh … what I mean is I care for him as a _friend_," he added quickly in terms of an explanation.

"Just a friend?" Dean asked, not allowing himself to relax just yet, every muscle in his body wound so tight it hurt.

"Well, yes and … possibly as … family," Cas added, sounding shy all of a sudden, studying Dean carefully for a reaction.

Dean's eyes lit up at that. "Family, yes … of course … I told you you're family." Family Dean understood, and family meant the world to him.

Cas face was graced with a small smile that made Dean's insides flip.

They stood like that for a long time, staring at each other, both knowing that there still were things … one thing in particular they were both afraid to bring up.

"So … am I family to you too then?" Cas broke the silence eventually.

"Cas I told you before that you're family; that you're like a brother to me…"

"Brother … okay." Cas' face fell at those words, a finality setting over his features and Dean realised that what he had said could be easily misunderstood. He couldn't help that little flutter of hope deep down in his gut at the way Cas had reacted. He sounded almost disappointed at being regarded just as a brother. Did he want to be more? And if so, what? And Dean realised he better be saying something, having stared at Cas for an unacceptable amount of time, before Cas might turn away from him for good.

"No … I mean … Cas …" he gulped, searching for the right thing to say. "Oh god … you're more than a brother to me Cas, I … you know…" Dean stammered, knowing what he should be saying but not being able to quite let the words pass his lips yet. Shit, if he screwed this up this really would be it.

"No Dean, I don't know … because you, me… _we_ have spent all our time trying NOT to talk about this. What, Dean? What am I to you?"

"You are … Cas I need you! … I told you I needed you … I … twice I told you and both times you still left…" Dean let all he hurt and bitterness he still felt about Cas leaving bleed into his words.

"I'm sorry for that Dean. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time… but why would you need me? Back then, I was useful to you and maybe you felt some kind of loyalty to me for all the things we've been through … but look at me now, who could possibly need me … plus we just keep hurting each other and I'm tired of it."

"You idiot, is that why you stayed away?" Dean didn't know what else to say to get it through Cas' big scull that he needed him, just because he was Cas and he was in love … oh … there was the word he was so scared to even think about. A word that had always petrified him unless it was applied to a member of his family and not in the romantic 'love' context. But, shit, he had already admitted to himself to not wanting to spend his life without Cas, the mere thought of it made him feel sick. What was that if not love?

"Cas, why won't you _listen_ to me… I NEED you … I … goddammit Cas." Dean's heart was racing, hands clammy and his head felt like it was about to explode. All these pent up and hidden away emotions were surfacing at once. His love and longing for the man in front of him, combined with a deep panic, a fear of, what if Cas would not understand him or worse, did not want this? Dean took a deep, harsh breath, holding it in before letting it escape again in a loud exhale. Cas was staring at him, but Dean could not decipher the emotions hidden behind those blue eyes. "Dammit…" he exclaimed again. He knew he had to go for broke. "Fuck, Cas … I am in love with you!" Dean could feel his world spinning as those words left his mouth, but finally, they were out and Dean would not want to take them back.

The words seem to hit Cas with such force that he momentarily took a step back. Dean flinched at the sudden distance. Shit, he had laid himself bare, and still, it probably had been too little too late. Maybe if he had confessed earlier, if he had not made such a mess of things, Cas and him would have had a chance. But here Cas was, retreating and Dean shattered, more with every second that passed with Cas just looking at him.

Cas was unable to breathe. He was gob smacked into silence and just stared at Dean for a long moment. The words were bouncing around in his head, reverberating and getting louder with every passing second.

"Love?" he asked, perplexed. "Dean … why did you never …" Cas started, but was cut off by Dean.

"I don't know, ok? Because I'm an emotionally repressed ass … I don't do relationships … I don't fall in love… I was fucking scared out of my mind because of all things possible, I fell in love with a guy … take your pick, Cas," Dean said, staring at the floor, not daring to meet Cas' eyes. "I'm sorry Cas. I'm really messed up and you deserve better than…"

"Dean, shut up … please." Cas voice sounded so broken and pleading that Dean's eyes came up and landed on the bright blue ones of Castiel, now shimmering with moisture.

"I need a second …" Cas stated and Dean nodded in understanding, still too scared to breathe and feeling his own eyes sting. Part of him still wanted to run, didn't want to stick around for the inevitable, but the better part of him knew he for once had to stick this out till the end, no matter what that end might look like.

Cas felt numb, even as his heart was racing and his palms were getting sweaty. Oh God, what would he have given a few months ago … even a few weeks ago, to hear those words. But now … he had finally accepted the fact that Dean and him were not meant to be and finally started to emotionally detach himself. But of course, one look at the hunter had him realise that he would never be free of Dean, would never stop to care for him, to crave his presence, to be ready to give up everything for him. And here he was, the man he loved, spelling it out for him. And it hit Cas at that moment, what a big step this must have been for Dean to say what he had and … was Cas prepared to open himself up to Dean, to fight for what they could have if for a change they would both pull on the same string?

"Dean …I …" he whispered and stopped, when those green eyes moved to look at him. He could tell Dean was bracing himself, his shoulders drawn back and mouth shut tight.

"I … this is all still so new to me but … I can safely say that I am in love with you too, probably have been before I even really understood what it was…but…"

Dean's jaw clenched so tight he was sure it would break. Of course there had to be a 'but'.

"I don't know how to do _this_," Cas continued, sounding so human and scared all of a sudden, his face an array of conflicting emotions, and all of them directed at Dean.

Oh god. Dean was sure he was about to have a panic attack. If Cas didn't know how to do this, Dean sure as hell did not. He couldn't even get himself to move and Cas was still halfway across the room, looking at him expectantly, like he held all the answers.

"Cas… I … I …" he wanted nothing more than to cross the distance and show Cas that he was being serious, but years of internalised homophobia and fear were not so easily overcome. Voices were screaming in his head, that he was not about to kiss a guy. He needed them to shut up, because he wanted to, really, he just didn't know how to get there.

"Damn, I love you Cas, but … I don't know … I can't do this!" Dean swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as the words left his mouth and a feeling of cold dread was working itself up his spine.

"Ok… I understand," Cas stated grimly and detached, like he had always known and was about to turn and walk back into the room, leaving Dean standing at the door.

"CAS! NO! That's not what I meant." Dean's panicked voice cut through the silence. He took a step into Cas' room and closed the door. "I … I want you, _this_ … but I can't … I need you to make the first move, Cas … _please_." Dean begged and when had his body started to shake?

Cas stopped, turned around and his incredibly blue eyes bore straight into Dean's soul, just like they used to when he was still an angel. Dean felt utterly exposed and laid open but at the same time it felt like coming home. He was holding his breath, still pleading, begging Cas with his own eyes to do something. To do what Dean was too scared to.

Cas' damn heart was about to beat out of his chest, he could feel it pound so hard he was dizzy. He let his eyes roam over Dean, still standing against the door, the internal struggle evident on his face, accompanied by a few stray tears slowly making their way down his face, and he looked so vulnerable and so beautiful at the same time. Cas wanted nothing more than to wipe those tears away and he could do this. He could be brave for the both of them.

He slowly took a few steps towards Dean until they were face to face, only a few inches separating them. Dean's mouth was parted and he was taking in short, sharp gasps, not unlike when someone couldn't breathe out of fear. His hands were hanging loosely at his sides and his eyes were not quite meeting Cas' gaze.

"Dean…" Cas rasped, his breath intermingling with Dean's and sending a shiver through him. He brought one of his hands up and wiped away a tear that was trailing down Dean's cheek with his thumb. He could feel Dean tremble at the touch. "Dean," he said again, almost reverently now, as his thumb trailed down from Dean's cheek, past his jaw and slowly traced along his upper lip, moist and warm. Dean leaned into the touch and Cas continued to let his thumb stroke and explore the outline of Dean's mouth. Dean was gasping and closing his eyes and Cas took that as his cue to lean in and replace his thumb with his mouth and then their lips met and Cas could feel himself shiver, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. It was only a chaste press but it was electric. Dean was slowly relaxing and let out a sigh against his lips that made his own tingle and Cas never wanted to do anything else ever again.

After a moment Cas pulled away, looking at Dean who opened his eyes and suddenly Cas could see it. All the love and desire and want - it was like something had finally unhinged in Dean, a small smile gracing his face, and then it was Dean leaning in, pressing his lips against Cas' and moaning.

Dean let out a sigh, a breath he must have held in for years if the sheer freedom he felt from letting it go was anything to go by. He was kissing a guy. Not just any guy but CAS … and by god, it felt so right. Dean knew his world would never be the same again but he did not care. When they broke apart, all Dean wanted was to chase Cas' lips, to feel that delicious pressure again and, finally, now he was ready to allow himself this feeling, this need, and with a smile his mouth followed Cas' until they connected again. Dean brought up a hand and pulled Cas in by the neck, deepening the kiss and then Cas parted his lips and his tongue darted out, licking along the seam of Dean's mouth and Dean lost all ability to think. He let Cas enter and met his tongue eagerly with his own, while pulling Cas even closer.

Cas was trembling from the sensation of kissing Dean. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He had wanted this for so long, thought it would never happen and now here they were and he needed more. Wanted as much of Dean as he could get. He reached around Dean with one of his arms, pulling him in tighter and his other hand started to card through the short hair on the back of Dean's head.

They continued kissing frantically, wet and messy, like two drowning men gasping for air and soon just kissing wasn't enough anymore as their hands started to roam over backs and chests and then worked their way under shirts to grab and stroke at exposed skin. They both were incredibly turned on and hard by now. All the built up sexual tension from over the years was exploding in one big bang. Their erections were pressing urgently together, both seeking pressure and friction as their hips started undulating frantically.

"Dean…" Cas whimpered when they parted but for a second to catch their breath, before reattaching their red and swollen lips. Dean wasn't even able to form Cas' name in his mouth and just gasped and grunted in need. He felt the other man's hands travel down and paw at his belt buckle urgently. It only took him a moment to unbuckle it and pop the button and then Cas' hands found their way into Dean's jeans and took hold of his straining hard-on and Dean's breath was punched out of him as his head fell back against the wall with a thud.

"Cas … oh …" he groaned, the tight grip Cas had on his dick was almost painful but oh-so-good and … _no_ … Dean could feel himself go rigid as thoughts of who else Cas had been doing this with were flashing in his mind, clear as day.

Cas stopped, feeling something was wrong with Dean. He had gone from a writhing mess, pliant and needy to staring at him and holding himself all too awkwardly for Cas' liking. He panted and tried to get himself under control.

"Dean?" He asked when he was able to speak again. "What is it?" Had he gone too fast, too far? Did Dean change his mind all of a sudden?

"Is nothing," Dean said. He was just being stupid. It was not like Sam and Cas were cheating on him at the time. Still, that sting of jealousy was painful, stabbing him in the heart repeatedly, even now.

"Dean … please … I can tell something is off … let's not start this with more secrets and lies…" Cas implored looking worried and feeling like he was going to be sick.

Dean nodded and yes, if they were going to do this, they have to do this right. "It's … Cas … I … you and Sam … I just can't get it out of my head … I need to know … what did you do?"

Cas swallowed and looked at Dean long and hard. "Dean … I don't know if me telling you will help the situation and …"

"Cas, I _need_ to know, I just … it keeps haunting me and …"

"Dean, let me ask you something …" Cas said resting his head against Dean's. "Will this be something we will be able to get past? Because if not, then this will be doomed from the start."

"No… yes, I mean … I want to get past this, I _will_ get past this … and maybe you don't understand, but I need to know because I'm sure anything I come up with in my head will be a 1000 times worse than reality."

Cas heard the desperation in Dean's voice and, if anything, he understood Dean better than he would have him believe. It had been numerous times Cas had tortured himself with images of Dean with random guys and what they might or might not have been up to.

"Ok, honesty it is …" Cas nodded his head. "We did not have actual sex." Cas could feel the exhale Dean released at that revelation. "I … we … that night we did stuff twice, first we just climaxed without actually removing our pants and then the second time … we used our hands." Cas felt awkward talking about it like that. Despite it having been a one time thing, it had felt special at the time and while in retrospect he wished they never had gone there, reality was that it did happen. Now they needed to find a way to deal with it.

Dean was quiet, fighting with the jealousy of his brother, even while he knew really he was in no position to judge. Which he was painfully reminded of a moment later when Cas spoke again.

"And you? What did you do Dean? What did those men do to you? How many? How far?" Cas asked now looking at Dean with a fierce and possessive glint in his eyes, the intensity of which made Dean shudder and gasp. He didn't want to tell him, didn't want Cas to think any less of him but Cas deserved the truth, had answered his own question. If they wanted to stand a chance they needed to start to be honest with each other.

He closed his eyes for a moment, colleting his thoughts and to escape Cas' intense gaze for a moment. "Honestly, I don't quite know how many … 10 … 12 … but we never … I never … it had always just been blow jobs. Them blowing me … I have never … could not…" he scrambled around, trying to find the right words, while not wanting to go back to this time, a time when he hated everything about himself and the idea of being with a man like this. The strong grip of Cas' hands on his arms pulled him out of his thoughts.

He looked at Cas, who was fixing him with a calculating glare that made Dean's breath hitch again and his heart pound rapidly. Then Cas dropped to his knees and pulled down Dean's jeans and boxers in one swift motion. He looked up at Dean through dark lashes before placing his mouth over his half hard cock and sucking it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and quickly working him back to full hardness. He pulled himself off it with a big plop and started to lick up the underside, along the vein and Dean couldn't hold in the moan that was escaping him and his eyes closed for a moment as the sensation of Cas' tongue on his skin overwhelmed him.

"Like this?" Cas mumbled before teasing the tip of Dean's cock with his skilful tongue, pressing it briefly into the slit before swirling it around the top.

"Is that what they did to you?" He asked as he took Dean back into his mouth as far as he could, and sucking hard.

"Cas…" Dean grunted. Cas could feel his hand grab hold of his head and curl into his hair as he suddenly thrust in deep and he gagged as the tip of Dean's cock hit the back of his throat.

Dean's eyes flew open when Cas pulled off and coughed. He looked down and saw his hands, fingers curled in Cas' dark hair, gripping him tight, and memories of all those times, all those nameless guys who he had done this with before came back to him. Cas was still coughing but he was smiling as he looked up from his position and their eyes locked and then he was leaning in again, taking Dean back into his mouth.

Dean couldn't shake the images flooding his brain. "Cas … no … stop…" he panted and pulled hard on Cas' hair, making Cas stop and look up at him confused.

"But … isn't this what you want? What you like?" he asked, hurt evident in his voice. Why was it easy enough for Dean to do this with strangers but not with him? Was he that bad at it? But before Cas had time to have a proper freak-out Dean pulled him up by his arms and engulfed him in a big hug.

"No, not like this … Cas … too many memories…" At the look of pain in Cas' eyes he added quickly, "Not good ones believe me … I love you but … I need to take this slow." Dean's hand was back in Cas' hair and he patted it gently while his lips met the former angel's again in a soft, slow kiss.

Cas whimpered an 'ok' into Dean's open mouth and let himself get lost in the sensation of kissing the man he loved. Loved so much it hurt and if Dean needed to take this slow, he would give him the time he needed.

Still, the issue of their straining erections did not go unnoticed by Cas, especially as Dean's exposed cock was pressing urgently into the space just above his groin and he felt the ever so slight rocking of Deans hips. Cas was equally aroused, feeling the almost painful pressure of his confined erection, and he kept pressing back against Dean. Even with his limited experience concerning all things sexual, he knew they both were desperate for release. Still kissing Dean, he groped until he found one of Dean's hands and led it around to Dean's crotch placing it around his cock, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go.

"Touch yourself," he whispered, voice deep and hoarse, against Dean's mouth. Hoping he did not overstep the bounds again.

Dean whimpered needily at Cas' words, his arousal spiking and his hips pushing forward into the contact. "Oh god…ok," He groaned and yes, he could do that, wanted to feel the release, while not giving all of himself to Cas, _yet_. He grinned and pulled Cas back in for more kissing as he started to stroke himself with a tight grip and rocking his hips forward into his fist.

His head was swimming and he could feel his orgasm building fast. A far away part of his brain noticed Cas' own hand between them, popping open the button of his jeans and taking himself in hand. Cas was breathing erratically into his mouth, little gasps of Dean's name escaping him. Oh god, Dean had imagined this before, imagined Cas like this, looking desperate and debauched, but he was totally not prepared for what seeing the former angel this wrecked would do to him. Dean was rapidly pushed over the edge, coming with a shout, all over his fist and his shirt. He let his head fall onto Cas' shoulder, as he stroked himself through the aftershocks. His legs were shaking and could still feel Cas' hand move between them, the outside of his knuckles pressing against Dean's softening cock as he picked up speed. It only took Cas a few more strokes and then he was shaking with his release and adding to the mess between their stomachs.

They fell against each other for support, catching their breaths and holding on tight, like they were both worried the other one would disappear if they let go.

"Cas…" Dean broke the silence first, feeling vulnerable but happy. "You think we can make this work?"

"I don't know, but I'm willing to try…" Cas mumbled into Dean's chest, not wanting to think too much about what still lay ahead of them.

"Me too …" Dean whispered, not sure if this would work but willing to die trying. He just needed Cas around, needed him with every fibre of his being, wanted him back with him where he belonged.

"Cas … come home, please?!"

* * *

Apologies for the little cliff-hanger but the chapter needed to end somewhere. Only the epilogue left now, which I plan to have up in a couple of days.


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